


The Man in the Mirror

by ScrollingKingfisher



Series: Possession is 9/10 of the Law [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelic Grace, Angelic Possession, Canon-Typical Violence, Chuck is a terrible parent, Consensual Possession, Destiel in the background, Friends to Lovers, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, God's A+ Parenting, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Season 5 AU, Sharing a Body, Slow Burn, Soul Lore, Temporary Character Death, Uneasy Allies, okay maybe a little more, only as much blasphemy as SPN itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 112,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrollingKingfisher/pseuds/ScrollingKingfisher
Summary: After the disaster that was the Elysian Fields Hotel, Sam makes a decision that saves Gabriel’s life and changes everything. Suddenly, Team Free Will has gained a new and unexpected member. Being possessed by an archangel isn’t exactly what Sam had imagined for the end of days, and Gabriel hadn't even imagined surviving the encounter with his brother, but with a new plan to set into motion and Lucifer still hot on their tails, there’s little enough time to figure themselves out.And even once they do, there’s another secret lying buried, deep below the surface. One that could change the course of the apocalypse entirely…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, here we are! My second SGBB entry!
> 
> So, this fic has been sitting in my WIP folder for no fewer than two years. What started off as a one-shot (ha!) evolved a plot, survived the great Laptop Death of 2017 and my final year exams, absorbed a whole host of other headcanons and grew into the 90k monster it is today. Honestly, I can’t wait to get it up here and see what you all think! On here, it’s gonna be posted chapter-wise, or you can find the unchecked version here on tumblr.
> 
> I’ve had the incredible fortune of working with the fabulous dmsilvisart who did all the beautiful art, it’s been an honour working with such a talented artist! (seriously, go look at the pictures, they’re just gorgeous) 
> 
> Many thanks as always to the discord gang, you’re all enablers in the best way! It wouldn’t be the same writing without you! <3
> 
> On with the show!

 

The night had started off badly, and was rapidly spinning towards disaster.

 

The impala spun out of the Elysian Fields’ parking lot on a grinding slew of soaked gravel. Rain was still pounding down, drumming on the roof and windshield faster than the wipers could push it away again. The water bounced off the road surface, leaping back a foot into the air and covering the road in a low-lying smog of droplets, made momentarily opaque as they were caught in the harsh beams of the impala’s headlights, then disappearing as they roared past, blending back into the darkness.

 

Inside the car, the silence was thick with tension. Sam was still panting from their flight out of the hotel, adrenaline still running through his veins. He shivered. Even being in the room with Lucifer always chilled his veins, left him feeling cold and panicky. But the further they got from the hotel the more it sank in that they had left Gabriel there all alone to face his insane brother. He might not have been fond of the trickster, but he hated Lucifer more. Not even those pagan gods had deserved to die like that. And the look of repressed terror in Gabriel’s eyes as he ducked out from behind that table-

 

There was a loud _pop_ , and Sam glanced in the mirror to see that Kali had vanished from the back seat.

 

It was an impulsive decision. He bit his lip, but he couldn't stay silent any longer. He nearly had to shout to be heard over the drumming on the roof. “Dean, we need to turn around! Gabriel could die back there!”

 

“So?” Dean’s eyes were fixed on the road, his hands in a death-grip of the steering wheel.

 

“So we should help him!”

 

Dean turned dangerously in his seat to give Sam an incredulous glare. “Why?

 

“Really Dean? You can’t see how it would help having an archangel on our side?”

 

Dean turned back to the road. “He’s not our friend! He’s barely an ally! And he knew what he was getting into! You heard him! Lucifer can turn gods into fingerpaint, and you want to go back to the hotel where you know he is?” His voice was rising in agitation.

 

They were good points, logically. Sam knew that. But he was desperate. Desperate not to lose another potential ally, even if their past wasn't exactly friendly. And, okay, so maybe he’d always been curious about Gabriel. Maybe he suspected that there was something else there, hiding behind the tricks and cruelty and anger. Sam had always been a sucker for a mysery, but if Gabriel was dead then any secrets he might be hiding would be lost for good.

 

“I’ll take that chance! Just turn us around, Dean!”

 

With a roar of frustration, Dean flung the steering wheel. The impala fishtailed spectacularly on the wet road, tires spinning. Sam was flattened against the side door, and then pressed back into his seat as Dean accelerated back towards the hotel.

 

“You better not make me regret this, Sam! If you get us killed… I'll kill you!”

 

They skidded back into the parking lot, and Sam threw the door open before the car had even stopped, ignoring his brother’s shout behind him. There was no time. He barrelled through the open front door and into the building, dashing down the corridor, dodging around the slumped bodies, nearly slipping on a pool of blood. He was going to be too late, come on, come on…

 

He skidded into the ballroom, turning the corner just as Lucifer plunged the blade hilt-deep into Gabriel’s chest.

 

He must have gasped. They both turned, two sets of glowing eyes fixing him in place. Gabriel’s face was frozen in a grimace of pain and shock. He shook his head frantically at him, mouthing ‘run!’, but Sam couldn't move. His feet were welded to the floor. He was too late.

 

Or was he? Gabriel wasn't burning out, not yet. Sam’s eyes locked into the light bleeding out around the angel blade, Gabriel's hands clenched painful-tight to Lucifer’s sleeve. Gabriel was hurt. His vessel was dying. But a random thought whispered into his brain. It wasn't the only available vessel in the room.

 

Sam’s gut clenched at the suggestion. Could he…? Was he really considering this? Letting himself be possessed? His mind spun. He had been focused on avoiding this for so long that this felt like he was admitting defeat, even if it wasn't the same at all. He’d come here to try and save Gabriel, yes, but he hadn’t thought that he’d ever go this far. This could all go horribly wrong in any number of ways. Gabriel might burn him out. He might lock Sam down and run off in his body. He might die anyway from his wounds, and kill Sam in the process. Why was he even considering this? Maybe it was just that curiosity again, his determination to uncover all the secrets?

 

But he hadn’t made it all the way back here to let Gabriel die. And if he was already possessed, who knew, maybe it would put Lucifer off constantly harassing Sam to be his meatsuit. And if Gabriel did kill him? Devil possession problem solved.

 

There was no more time to think it through. He had to go with his gut. Please, please let this work.

 

Sam drew himself up, pushing the fear down as he sucked in a deep breath.

 

“Yes!” He shouted.

 

Two pairs of eyebrows shot up in shock. Sam waited, his trepidation building, but to his irritation Gabriel still wasn't getting it. “Yes, Gabriel! Do it now!”

 

Emotions flashed across Gabriel’s face, disbelief then flickering hope then finally concentration. His face tipped upwards, his mouth opening, and the glow in his eyes was suddenly painfully bright, but Sam couldn't look away.

 

There was a roar like a waterfall, like a dam bursting; liquid light erupted out of Gabriel’s vessel and into the room, more and more of it, Sam could barely believe that that small human frame could hold so much. His eyes were fixed on it. The light splashed up against the ceiling like an upside-down ocean, hovering over him and hanging heavy, a great wave about to curl-

 

Then it swept down. Light and heat filled Sam’s mouth, his nose, his lungs, drowning him; his vision whited out. He was swept away, grip on reality ripped from his hands, battered and pressed down by that great alien presence, so hot and fierce, wild and turbulent. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, there was only the terror and the churning confusion as the light _kept pouring in_ , more, more, too much until he was sure his skin would burst-

 

A voice echoed through his head like a roll of thunder. **_Sam..._ **

 

It was too much. The darkness dragged him down, and Sam sank into it willingly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you for all the lovely comments, you’re all the best! <3

The first thing that Sam thought, when he could think again, was that Jimmy Novak had been wrong. Being possessed wasn’t like being chained to a comet. It was like being crushed by Mount Everest.

 

He was being squeezed. Someone had his head in a vice and was slowly turning the handle. An insurmountable weight pressed him down and held him immobile, sitting on his chest, his arms, his legs. He tried to draw breath, but to his panic his lungs didn’t respond. He tried to thrash, but he couldn’t even twitch his fingers. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see, he was going to be crushed here in the dark, ground down and worn away until there was nothing left at all-

 

 **_Calm down!_ ** The voice resonated through his head, too loud, too close, a thunderclap in a cathedral. Sam flinched away from it, his distress turning into wild panic. He slammed himself against the restraining force in desperation, clawing to find a way to the surface, trapped under the ice. There were somebody else's thoughts in his brain! It was Meg all over again, he couldn't be possessed again, he just couldn't-

 

 **_Hey, stop that! If you don't calm down, I'm gonna knock you out again!_ ** The voice was quieter this time though. And it was… anxious? That was definitely anxious.

 

Sam’s struggles started to slow. Memories were starting to drift back to his fractured consciousness. He remembered the hotel. Lucifer. And…

 

_...Gabriel?_

 

 **_He remembers!_ ** Sam flinched as a wall of emotions slammed against him, churning together into one untranslatable tsunami before being cut off abruptly. **_Oops, sorry. It's been a while since I had to share headspace. Which, by the way, thanks. I owe you one._ ** Although Sam couldn’t see Gabriel’s s face, he could still sense his emotions strongly enough to picture his reluctant grimace. He could literally feel his grudging gratitude; the huge alien presence pressed uncomfortably close to him was radiating it. Gabriel probably wasn’t happy about being indebted to a lowly human, especially one who might call in favours and get him involved in the apocalypse again. And, to be fair to Gabriel, that’s exactly what Sam was planning on doing.

 

Now that he had calmed down a little, Sam could feel Gabriel’s grace not only in his brain, but infecting his other senses too. The fabric under him was rough, the fibres in his jeans pressing harshly against his skin, every nerve oversensitized almost to the point of pain. All sound was nearly drowned out by the thunderous rushing of air in and out of his lungs, the drumbeat of his heart in his chest, the noise resonating through his bones. He was sure he could smell every single person who had been in the room for the last month, body odour and cigarette smoke almost overwhelming him.

 

And that wasn’t the worst part. There was another sense nudging the back of his brain, one that his human mind wasn't meant to comprehend. It was like seeing without light, hearing without sound. Trying to look at it too closely sent him spinning dangerously back towards panic. Most of the world was dark, as it should have been with his eyes closed, but within that there was light, glowing galaxies illuminating the back of his eyelids with their alien impressions. He couldn’t help watching the closest one, the ripples drifting across its surface, speaking of dangerous currents flowing deeper, writhing over and under in an endless knot. Just glancing made something inside him ache dangerously. It was too complex. Not meant for him.

 

It was overwhelming.

 

**_You're freaking yourself out, aren't you?_ **

 

 _No I'm not,_ Sam thought reflexively.

 

**_Well stop it, it's uncomfortable._ **

 

 _You're uncomfortable?!_ Sam squirmed instinctively against the claustrophobia, trying to shy away from the sensations.

 

Gabriel shifted his bulk in the back of Sam's head, resettling in apparent discomfort. **_You’re not exactly made for me. It’s like wearing clothes that pinch in all the wrong places._ ** Sam bit back a sarcastic comment about how he felt like he was being slowly flattened. Gabriel must have heard it, because he felt a brief nudge of apology. **_I know it probably doesn't feel like it, but I'm giving you as much room as I can here._ **

 

Sure enough, now that he was listening for it, Sam could hear the note of strain in Gabriel’s mental voice. The hidden suggestion of the effort that he must have been putting in to ensure he didn’t completely crush Sam’s mind. It must have been something about sharing a brain, because Sam instinctively knew he was telling the truth.

 

So at least it wasn’t intentional. It didn’t stop Sam being squashed, but it did put a damper on the anger that had been beginning to grow under the panic. Gabriel couldn’t help it if he was almost too much for Sam to handle. Gabriel’s emotions washed over him again, discomfort and anxiety all mixing with relief. He didn't even seem to realise he was doing it.

 

 **_How are you feeling?_ ** The question felt tentative, and unexpectedly genuine. Sam hadn’t thought Gabriel would be so concerned with his well being. Didn’t really know what to do with it. He thought about it, stretching his awareness out slightly. His senses were still vibrant enough that he winced every time he noticed them, but the sheer overwhelming panic was wearing off.

 

 _I’m… I’m okay, I think. Just give me a minute._ Sam wished he could take a deep breath to calm himself, gathering himself together. He tried to focus on anything except the other presence. He could still feel his body, but it was like the strings had been cut. He was starting to realise the full implications of what he’d done. The lack of control was disconcerting.

 

Then, just when he thought he had everything under control, Gabriel opened Sam’s eyes.

 

It was possibly the strangest thing that he had ever felt. He could see the room, but on top and underneath that he could see through the walls, ultraviolet and infrared. Currents of energy wound everywhere, shimmering like skeins of translucent thread, stitching the universe together. Time and space and slivers of other dimensions peeking through, and woven through it all was _life_ , too bright, too blazingly colourful. He wished he could shut his eyes, screw them closed tight, but he couldn’t because Gabriel was in control...

 

Where the hell was he? If he squinted past the bizarre new senses, it looked like any number of motel rooms they’d stayed in. Generic, ugly furnishings and an eighties colour scheme. They could be anywhere. Where the hell had Gabriel taken him?

 

**_The Blue Moon Motel, just off interstate 74, buttfucking nowhere Indiana. Blame your brother for the motel room, I swear you Winchesters actively look for the crummiest places you can find._ **

 

Gabriel glanced at the other bed, and it took Sam a second to peer through the closest knot of writhing energy to see Dean, deeply asleep with his mouth half open. A line of drool tracked down his cheek and onto the pillow.

 

 **_Oh yeah, he was freaking out too, I knocked him out._ ** Gabriel said casually.

 

 _That’s Dean’s soul!?_ Sam couldn’t even berate Gabriel for knocking them out, he was too focused on watching in fascination as filaments of light looped out of the main whole, sentient solar flares blinking in and out of existence in the blink of an eye.

 

Gabriel chuckled. **_What, you’ve never seen a soul before?_ **

 

He swung Sam’s long legs over the edge of the bed with what was obviously meant to be smooth grace, muscles pulling and contracting without Sam’s permission, standing in one quick movement and then nearly falling over when he underestimated the length of Sam’s legs. **_Has anyone ever told you you’re too tall?_ **

 

 _Only everyone ever._ Sam recoiled a little as Gabriel looked around. Feeling his eyeballs flicking around without his say-so was just... disturbing.

 

Gabriel walked towards the other bed and bent down, pressing his fingers to Dean’s forehead. **_Wakey wakey!_ **

 

Dean sprung awake with a yell in a whirl of fists and legs. He flailed his way off the bed, finally slowing when he caught sight of Gabriel. Or, well, Sam.

 

“Gabriel? What did you do!?”

 

“Hi there, Deano. Are we going to have a conversation this time, or are you gonna try shooting me again?”

 

Sam shivered. His voice was _wrong_ , even to his own ears. The inflections were in all the wrong places, the tone and pitch just a little bit off. It wasn’t him anymore. He was a puppet, and Gabriel was pulling the strings.

 

Dean’s frown was already thunderous. “I wasn’t gonna shoot you right away, asshat. Only if you didn’t get out of my brother.”

 

Sam felt a flash of Gabriel’s annoyance. “And I was trying to tell you why I _can’t_ , but you just don’t listen, do you? So I figured I’d put our little disagreement on hold until your brother was awake.”

 

Dean perked up. “Sammy? He’s awake in there?” Sam didn't need Gabriel’s extra senses to see the anger building in Dean’s expression go from tropical storm to hurricane.

 

_Oh boy. Here we go._

 

“What the hell were you thinking? Possession, Sam? Seriously? We just get away from one dickbag trying to ride your skin, and you just offer yourself to the next thing to need a meatsuit?”

 

“Hey, Rambo!” Gabriel barked. “Lay off.”

 

Dean scowled at him and stabbed a finger towards his chest. “You stay out of this. This is about me and Sam.”

 

Gabriel swatted Dean’s hand aside with a flick of contempt. “Aside from the personal insults, which I’m gonna ignore for now,” he said acidly, “Sam’s your brother, not your kid! I don't care if you don't approve, it was his decision to make.”

 

“Sam doesn’t make good decisions! This is just another example of that!”

 

Sam flinched against the back of his mind, guilt making him coil in tight on himself. What Dean was saying was true, he knew it. But Gabriel reared up, anger flaring bright and terrible. He bared Sam’s teeth in a savage smile, getting into Dean’s face as he glowered back. “Listen here you pompous asshat, you don’t get to speak to him like that. His quick thinking is the only reason I'm not a smear of ash on the floor. Trust me, I’m not the biggest fan of how he did it, but you can bet I'm not going to sit here and let you rip a strip off the kid for taking initiative!”

 

Dean and Gabriel glared at each other, breathing hard. Sam could feel Gabriel’s temper growing, lava bubbling beneath the surface of his grace. The power of a archangel’s wrath. He felt a tinge of fear. _Gabriel, just leave it, it’s not a big deal..._

 

Gabriel puffed up further. **_I’m not just gonna sit here and let him light your ass on fire while you can't talk back!_ **

 

_He’s just worried!_

 

**_No he’s not! He’s angry he can’t control you, because you’ve got a will of your own!_ **

 

Sam’s defence of Dean just seemed to fan Gabriel’s rage higher. Sam bristled at the judgement in Gabriel’s thoughts, feeling his own temper rising as well. _Back off, okay? Let me deal with Dean. It's none of your business!_

 

Gabriel’s anger rumbled for another second, the swirling of his grace threatening to flatten Sam even more, but then he glanced at the door and seemed to come to a decision. **_Whatever._ ** **You** **_might be willing to put up with it, but angels and demons will get along before I let Dean righteous-man Winchester take me to task. So suck it up. In fact, you know what? I’ve had enough of overbearing brothers for one lifetime. We don’t need to deal with his shit. We’re going. Sorry, kiddo._ **

 

_What?_

 

Gabriel raised Sam’s fingers to snap. “That’s enough of your bullshit, I think.” His grace sparked, and Dean froze where he was standing, his eyes flicking around. Sam could see his soul erupt with indignance, anger literally flying off him. Gabriel wasn’t paying attention to that, too busy frowning in displeasure at Sam’s fingers, which had slid off each other without clicking. He looked down at the long digits in betrayal.

 

“You can’t snap your fingers? Sammy, Sammy. I’ll just have to teach you.”

 

 _What did you do to Dean!?_ Sam yelled.

 

“No need to yell, Samster, just made him a little less annoying that’s all. He’ll be fine in twenty minutes. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, getting out of here.”

 

He really was going to leave. This was exactly what he had been afraid of! Any trust he might have had in the archangel dissolved. Sam snarled. _You fucker! Gabriel, I swear, you do this and I’ll never forgive you!_ Gabriel just increased his stride. Sam changed tack, dropping the anger. _Please, Gabriel,_ he begged desperately, _please, let me stay with Dean. I know he’s annoying, but he’s my brother and he’s a part of this! We need to solve it together!_

 

**_Exactly how much influence do you think that particular argument's gonna have on me, Sammy? Trust me, we’ll solve this much faster without him. What did I try to teach you last time? This whole thing between you two isn’t healthy._ **

 

Sam resisted, pressing helplessly at Gabriel’s bulk with renewed panic. _He needs me! We can’t abandon him out here! And anyway, how are you any better!? I know what this is, this isn’t about Dean! You’re running away, again!_

 

Gabriel ignored him, even if Sam felt his grace recoil. “Well, it’s been fun I’ve got to say, but I think it’s time for us to go. See ya, Deano!”

 

Gabriel turned, throwing one last smirk and a wiggle of fingers towards Dean’s frozen, furious face and reaching for the doorknob. Sam threw himself at Gabriel, battering against the bulk of him in desperation and panic. He couldn’t let Gabriel leave, he refused to abandon his brother to deal with his mess alone.

 

 _No! Gabriel, don’t you dare! I swear_ “-if you walk out the door I’m going to- what the-?” Sam stopped, almost tripping over his own feet as he arrested his own momentum a foot from the door. That was his voice. His tongue forming words, not just trapped useless at the back of his own head. He looked down at his hands, clenched his fists. Rolled his shoulders. Sighed in relief.

 

 **_What? What just happened?_** Came the very confused voice at the back of his head.

 

“Not sure,” Sam muttered, still revelling in the sensation of controlling his own body again.

 

 **_Sam? What did you do!?_ ** Gabriel was shifting restlessly, like a caged animal pacing. Sam winced when he started poking at his soul, trying to find a way out. He gripped his control instinctively tighter.

 

“Hey, cut that out!” he snapped. “I told you, I don’t know!” How had he done it, he wondered? His brain was racing. He had fought an archangel for control, and he had won! It was supposed to be impossible, and yet...

 

**_Will you let me out?_ **

 

Sam barked a disbelieving laugh, glaring at his reflection in the mirror next to the door. His anger reared it’s head again, an ugly bubbling burning in his stomach turning his mouth up into a sneer. “Why should I? You just tried to run off! Again! In MY body!”

 

Gabriel groaned and said through gritted mental teeth, **_Sam. Please. Let me out. I won’t run away, I swear it as an archangel._ **

 

Sam was about to say no, because he might have wanted to save Gabriel’s life for a split second but that didn’t mean he trusted him (and why should he? Gabriel had just nearly betrayed him, again!). In fact, for half a second he felt the vindictive urge to squash Gabriel against the back of his mind, to give the archangel a taste of what it was like to be trapped at the mercy of someone else.

 

But he felt something and paused. Gabriel’s grace was roiling, and Sam caught a wave of something. Were they thoughts? Maybe emotions? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be because whatever archangels’ thoughts they were far more vast and alien than his human mind knew how to cope with. But he managed to translate something like claustrophobia, verging into panic. The realisation that he was no longer in control, that Sam could do anything he wanted and leave him mute and helpless. Like Sam had felt while Meg was possessing him. Fear that Sam would kick him out in his anger, fear of dying. Those feelings were all too human. Too familiar.

 

Half a second later Sam felt Gabriel realise that he was projecting and the feelings stopped, a door slamming shut. Gabriel retreated further back, wary. Like he was expecting Sam to keep beating him when he knew he was down.

 

Sam groaned silently to himself. He knew he was going to regret this.

 

 _Would you try to run away? Or put me to sleep?_ He interrogated.

 

**_No. And I couldn’t do that right now even if I wanted to. I’m too low on grace to do squat._ **

 

_Then fine, get back here._

 

Sam felt a flash of Gabriel’s confusion break through his shields before they slammed up again. **_Sam?_ **

 

 _Get up here before I change my mind. Hold on,_ he had a thought, _On one condition. Let me out every now and again. Let me take back control for a while. Just to get some fresh air, or I’m gonna go insane locked in here._

 

**_Yes, yes, whatever! Just let me back up there, would you?_ **

 

Sam sighed in relief. _Alright. Now, how?..._

 

How to move back? Sam closed his eyes, reaching back into his mind. He was thankful that his time with the demon blood had given him some awareness of the inside of his own head and how to navigate its nooks and crannies. All he had to do was shift out of the driver’s seat. If he pulled back, just slightly-

 

He felt his mind shift, coming untethered, and distantly he felt his body slump like somebody had cut its strings. Gabriel leapt forwards faster than thought, shunting Sam sideways as he took control, getting his hands out in front of him just in time to stop himself from falling on his face. Sam winced as the full weight of Gabriel’s grace crushed him to the back of his own brain again. They just breathed for a second, getting back their equilibrium after the abrupt change.

 

 **_Thank you,_ ** Gabriel admitted, pushing himself to Sam’s feet.

 

Sam grunted, conceding to the reluctant gratitude. Just because he had too much empathy didn’t mean he wasn’t still mad about it. _Just don’t do it again. Now let Dean go before he gives himself a heart attack._

 

Gabriel flicked his long fingers towards Dean, who collapsed forwards with a yell. Sam winced internally at the barrage of cussing as Dean heaved himself upright before bellowing in Sam’s face, “What the HELL was that?!”

 

Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes. “Me and your brother had a little chat and he convinced me to postpone our vacation.”

 

“So? Are you getting out of him?”

 

“No can do, Deano! I’m staying cos smug in here,” Gabriel was smirking, but Sam could feel his tension. Gabriel obviously wasn’t used to dealing with people without a massive advantage. The lack of grace was making him tense and anxious. Sam would have told him to reel in the attitude, because it wasn’t earning him any points with Dean, but he was too tired. How was he exhausted _again_? He’d just woken up! “You’re stuck with me.”

 

Dean stopped, stared at him mistrustfully for a minute, his eyes narrowing as he reasoned it through. “...okay. So Sam can beat your cowardly ass, which is probably the only reason he’s letting you back in charge if you’re staying. But why?”

 

“Why what?” Gabriel asked. Sam could feel the way Dean’s comment about his cowardice stung him, the way he flinched back from it, but he wasn’t feeling much sympathy towards the archangel at the moment.

 

“Why are you sticking around with us? Why can’t you go and possess some other poor bastard?”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes again. “Archangel, remember? I can’t go around possessing randomers. Sam might not be my true vessel, but unlike nearly everyone else on the planet, he’s not gonna explode after three days. And exploding people isn’t really my gig. Innocent people,” He corrected himself when Dean opened his mouth. He pursed his lips, and Sam felt his indecision before he reluctantly continued. “Also, I can’t leave. Lucifer wounded my grace. The energy coming off Sammy-boy’s soul is the only reason I haven’t imploded and wiped out the state.”

 

That woke Sam up again. _Hey! You didn’t tell me that!_

 

“You’re feeding off his soul?” Dean’s voice was sharp.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Relax. I’m just scooping up what he’s making anyway, it’s not hurting him. But if I leave, I explode, and none of us want that.”

 

There was a tense silence. Sam watched the grimace on Dean’s face as he worked through all the possibilities. He was treating this like a case, Sam could tell. But he had already calculated all their options, and he knew already what conclusion Dean would come to. Cooperation was their best option.

 

“We’re gonna need some ground rules,” Dean grumbled eventually. Gabriel grumbled something back, but all Sam heard were blurred voices.

 

Now that Gabriel didn’t seem to be likely to make a break for it and they were out of danger, the exhaustion was quickly overcoming him. Sam felt himself floating, and jerked himself awake. What if he just… drifted away? There was so much more room in his mind now, and he was so tired. A sudden thought occurred to him, the spike of anxiety bringing him back towards consciousness. What if he got lost in here? What if Gabriel put him under and he never woke up?

 

 **_I wouldn’t do that!_ ** Sam was a little reassured by how sincerely offended Gabriel seemed by that thought. **_Relax, you’re just tired. Possession takes a lot out of a soul._ **

 

More like fighting against possession, but Sam was too tired to rehash that argument again now. _Why do I still need to sleep? My body’s going to stay awake with you in it, right?_

 

 **_Angels don’t need to sleep, but human minds do, even without bodies._ ** Sam shivered a little at the mention of being without a body. The fear of floating, lost without a corporeal body, flashed through his mind again.

 

He flinched back a little when he felt a tendril of grace reaching out towards him. But instead of trying to pry inside him, like he remembered Meg doing while she possessed him, it just curled around his mind. Anchoring him. He relaxed in wordless gratitude.

 

 _You’d better not get us into trouble while I’m asleep, or I’m gonna be pissed,_ he threatened, but there was no strength in it.

 

 **_I wouldn’t._ ** Gabriel was quiet for a second, uncharacteristically somber. **_I’m sorry, Sam. I never wanted to be involved in this whole mess in the first place, but I can’t stay away._ ** He sighed, and for a second he sounded as exhausted as Sam felt. **_I swear, I’ll help you now. Both of you, if I have to,_ ** he thought with distaste. **_I’m on your side. Like I said, I owe you one. I take that seriously._ **

 

_No more running?_

 

**_No more running, I swear. Sleep tight, Sam. Angels are watching over you._ **

  
Sam snorted, already half gone, and let sleep take him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slams down my goblet* “Another!”

Finally, Sam was asleep. The violent tumult of his mind, which had been grating against Gabriel’s grace, slowed to a mild buzz as the human settled down for the night. Even his soul was more peaceful, ceasing its efforts to instinctively eject Gabriel from his body and coiling up in his chest like a sleeping dragon.

 

Gabriel let out a quiet sigh of relief, letting his grace relax a little. It had been so long since he had shared a vessel with anyone, and sharing it while he was so low on power that he couldn’t even keep full control was disconcerting- he had been careful not to let Sam see just how vulnerable he was. Lucifer had carved quite a chunk out of him. He might be more or less whole now, but he was still so _weak_.

 

He had nearly panicked when Sam had managed to force him back. He was used to being in control, being able to do almost anything; manipulate time, command the elements, create or destroy at will- and now he could barely contain one human. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen_ , he thought to himself wryly. He tried not to think too hard about how terrifying it had been to be trapped at the back of Sam’s mind. Pinned down and helpless. All of his careful deception had come to nothing; Sam knew exactly how weak he was right now.

 

It wasn’t even that Gabriel was afraid that Sam might try to hurt him. He knew Sam, or he thought he did. He had watched him from afar for long enough. Sam wasn’t cruel, no matter what horrible things Gabriel had put him through, not even when he was desperate- he just became a brutally efficient hunter. Carving away at his own soul until Gabriel hadn’t been able to watch in horror any longer and had given in.

 

No, Gabriel was almost sure the human wouldn’t use his weakness against him if he revealed just how badly he’d been hurt, but the paranoid little voice at the back of his mind kept muttering _what if_ … _Better not to take that chance._

 

He’d try and hide the true extent of his weakness for as long as he could, but he doubted that would last for long. Gabriel smiled bitterly to himself. Sam Winchester, the one being in the universe who could see right through his masks, and he was stuck with him. Typical.

 

The other brother was asleep as well, thank Dad. Gabriel had thought Dean would stay up all night interrogating him, and he wasn’t ashamed that he’d given him a little push towards sleep just to get some peace and quiet. It wasn’t like it took much effort. Both of them were already sleep deprived to the point of exhaustion after months of chasing apocalyptic omens. Dean should be thanking him for some decent shut-eye.

 

He pushed his vessel up from where he’d been sitting on the bed, pacing carefully towards the bathroom on too-long legs. Father above, he thought to himself, it was like possessing a giraffe. Flicking on the lightswitch, he looked in the mirror. Familiar-unfamiliar hazel eyes stared back.

 

Gabriel let his fingers trail absentmindedly over his new vessel, traced the unfamiliar sharp contours of the face, brushed a lock of long hair back behind one ear.He could see what Dean meant now. He held his expressions differently from Sam, the muscles and movements all wrong. No wonder the mortal hadn’t been convinced. He sighed and looked down at the rest of his new vessel.

 

The legs were too long, he decided with a frown, as was almost everything else. The man was all limbs. There was something about his fit in the vessel as well; Sam wasn’t quite the right… _shape_ inside. Roomy, but not perfect, not made for him, unlike his previous body. Like being stuck in an oversized sweater. Maybe that was why he was having so many problems with coordination. Or maybe he was just so powered down it was messing with his connection to the vessel.

 

He missed it, he realised with surprise as he looked down at his newly-callused hands; he missed his old vessel. The strong, capable hands, the legs that he didn’t constantly have to worry about tripping over, never having to duck when going through doorways. The ability to walk unseen through a crowd. This vessel drew attention like flies to dung.

 

Of course he missed it, he retaliated to himself. Why wouldn’t he? He’d lived in it for millenia. So long that he’d almost forgotten what being in his true form felt like. What’s more, it had been a gift. The last thing he had to remember a very old friend by… he pushed those memories back down, but to his annoyance the sense of loss remained.

 

Maybe, they would beat the odds. Maybe they would defeat the devil, and he would be the one to lock his brother away again for another eternity, although he wasn’t sure if it would break him irreparably to do it. Maybe they wouldn’t, and they would all die anyway. But either way, he was unlikely to be in this vessel long, and it wouldn’t do to get attached. He was well aware that this was a temporary solution at best. The most that he could hope for was that Sam would be kind enough to wait until he was healed enough to survive without access to his soul’s glorious warmth. Or, hell, Sam might evict him before all that if he did something monumentally stupid enough. He was aware that he had royally screwed up with his first impression on Sam. What had he been thinking? Trying to run again?

 

He realised he’d been staring blankly at Sam’s reflection. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Usually he could control his anxieties better than this, but tonight his worries were bouncing around his head like a pinball machine. Was this what human emotions were like? How did they even function?

 

Absently, his hand drifted to his chest and rubbed over his sternum again. Sam’s heart beat under his palm, strong and rhythmic. He still ached below the surface, not in the flesh but in his Grace. The gash where the blade had sunk into him had finally sealed, thanks to Sam’s soul energy. That meant he wasn’t in danger of haemorrhaging grace onto the ratty carpet, at least, but he was still pitifully weak. He shuddered, trying to banish the thoughts of Lucifer’s crazed face from his mind. Stabbed by his own brother. He had been terrified of getting near Lucifer because he knew it was a possibility. But some stupid, naive part of him had never really believed he would...

 

So that begged the question; what the hell was he going to do now? He was stuck in Sam’s body until further notice, and if Sam decided to evict him early he was pretty sure his wounds would open again and he’d go pop like the biggest, most destructive balloon. No thanks. Which meant he'd have to stay on the Winchesters’ good side, and that involved trying to stop Lucifer. The thing he'd run away from home to avoid. He grimaced to himself, Sam’s face crinkling up in the mirror.

 

The more he thought about it, the more insane the situation seemed. He was possessing his brother’s vessel. He had faced down his brother. And he was still alive.

 

He set aside a moment to just marvel at that.

 

He had been so sure that there was no way he was surviving that encounter. He had seen dozens of futures, and in not a single one of them had he survived. And yet here he was. All because Sam Winchester gave destiny the middle finger yet again.

 

He had accepted his death, swallowed back all the terror and walked to his destruction. But he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t. The look in Lucifer’s eyes as he pushed the blade home had broken something in him, and Gabriel couldn’t sacrifice himself like that again. Which meant he had to find a way to get them out of this. A solution.

 

Sam’s soul shifted in his sleep, stretching out towards him lazily like it could sense Gabriel’s stress. He was so surprised that he didn’t move to stop it as he watched it come closer. What was it doing?

 

A tendril of it looped around his grace, energy soothing the ragged edges of him, and he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped, the way he relaxed into it. It was so warm, like standing next to a bonfire when you were freezing cold, its heat seeping into his grace and rejuvenating him. He reached back, just a little. He couldn’t help it. The light of the soul pulsed happily, the fractures running through it only adding to its complexity and beauty, casting shimmering rainbows like faults within a gemstone. This was what had always drawn him to Sam; still glorious, for all his flaws.

 

Wait, what was he doing? Gabriel shook himself and guiltily pushed the soul away. Sam was asleep. It didn’t matter how good it felt to have that bright soul pressed against him, how much he needed that friendly contact. It was a violation of Sam’s consent. Even the thought of taking advantage of that turned Gabriel’s stomach. When Sam was awake, he didn’t even _like_ Gabriel. No, he didn’t deserve the attention of such a fierce, vibrant soul as this.

 

He cajoled it back into the snug corner of their headspace where Sam’s mind usually pressed when he was awake, as far from Gabriel as he could get. It tried to stretch back out again, and Gabriel gently deflected its questing shoots. It retreated, curling up dispiritedly, its glow dimming as it sank into its crevice. Gabriel tried to ignore the chill as it returned. Sam wouldn’t want this, Gabriel reminded himself sternly. His soul reaching out was just a reflex. Sam, when he was awake, wanted to be as far from his grace as possible, and Gabriel didn’t blame him. Possession wasn’t fun. He’d tried to honour that, tried to reduce the fear and alleviate the pressure, but he wasn’t sure how far he had succeeded. Not to mention his little cowardly stunt that evening. He felt another stab of guilt. It was a wonder Sam hadn’t thrown him out there and then.

 

The cold intensified, and he almost shivered. He needed to sleep. As much as hated the vulnerability, he had lost most of his power stopping the bleed-out and healing Sam from the resulting grace poisoning, and he needed to rest. His brother wouldn't find them here, he’d made sure of that. This scabby motel room was as safe as he was going to get at such short notice- the wards he’d put in place would hold until morning.

 

With a sigh, he glanced once more at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, then flicked the light off, leaving him to navigate his way back to the bedroom in the dark. He lay back down and closed Sam’s eyes. Where was Lucifer right now? He wondered. Was he lying like this, thinking about what he’d almost done? Did he regret it at all?

 

Memories that he’d thought long buried rose in his grace, memories of him and his brothers in simpler times. Back when they had loved each other. When killing one another would have been unthinkable. They should have been good memories, but they were stained now, tainted by years of bitterness and betrayal. He desperately tried to push them back down, to wall them off again, but his grace was too weak. Pathetic, at the mercy of his own mind. Just like a human.

 

He rolled over, trying to find a position that was comfortable on his vessel’s back, and closed his eyes. Maybe things would look better in the morning. It didn’t take long for unconsciousness to find him.

 

.o0o.

 

Sam was high, high in the air. So high that the shape of the newborn globe curved below him, the atmosphere a vivid purple corona over the molten surface. Already, he could see where the gigantic continent would be, embryonic mountain ranges pushing up from below, the first rains starting to fall to fill the oceans. The sky above him was unclouded velvet black, scattered with stars that twinkled red and gold and blue. The air was frigid and the atmosphere razor thin, but that didn’t bother him. What could mere cold do to a being of pure energy?

 

He swung his long body into a sinuous turn, the red earth wheeling below him, and carefully spread his primary feathers to hover over his Father’s latest creation, observing it critically. It was beautiful, that was for sure, but so _boring_ with nothing to populate it yet.

 

With a rush and a crackle, something twice his size shot past him, sending him tumbling in its slipstream before he righted himself. He shrieked with joy and excitement as his brother swung back towards him, his glorious wings beaming white and opalescent. Lucifer chuckled as Sam gamboled around him. **_Come along, little brother. Let us explore, before Michael or Father come and drag us back to help Him craft moons._ ** Sam whistled in agreement, darting after him as they dove down together towards the newly born planet-

 

With a jolt so sudden it sent his mind spinning, he was suddenly somewhere else. If he had had control of his body he would have reeled, but his eyes were already open, fixed on the stained ceiling above them before they snapped wide in alarm.

 

**_Sam?_ **

 

Sam shuddered. It had felt so real, nothing like a regular dream. It had been as bitingly sharp as his old visions and with the same vibrancy as Gabriel’s senses. Gabriel was still focused on him, letting Sam’s eyes slide out of focus. Sam felt the grace reach out for him in concern, then draw back when he flinched away. **_Sam, talk to me._ **

 

 _Lucifer_ , Sam whispered, not thinking. Immediately, Gabriel tensed, his eyes began to dart about and his awareness expanded as he searched for the threat, even as his grace drew in in terror, like a snail retreating into its shell. Sam waved him off. _No, not here. I saw him_.

 

Gabriel radiated confusion. Before he was even aware of doing it, Sam shoved his memory of the dream at him. Gabriel startled when their minds touched, but when he saw the memory his thoughts froze in shock. Then his grace suddenly flurried into motion, swelling out of control, anger and grief and nostalgia all warring with each other and pelting against Sam’s mind like a hail of bullets. Sam cringed back from the onslaught.

 

**_Those are my memories!! How do you have my memories!?_ **

 

Sam could see the accusations flying through Gabriel’s thoughts, that he’d stolen them from him, and shouted back. _Those were from you!? Of course I didn’t steal them! I was sleeping and then I was trapped there, with Lucifer!_

 

 **_Heylel,_ ** Gabriel spoke abruptly.

 

_What?_

 

 **_He wasn’t Lucifer then._ ** Gabriel replied stubbornly, **_He was Heylel. The Morning Star._ **

 

 _Fine, whatever._ As the shock wore off, Sam was getting more unsettled and more annoyed. _Could you keep your damn memories to yourself?_

 

Gabriel’s reply would have come through gritted teeth. **_Trust me, I'm trying._ **

 

_Well try harder!_

 

Sam felt a well of violent frustration run through Gabriel, his grace swirling with indignation and buried hurt, and tried to calm himself. Gabriel was obviously just as distressed about it as Sam was, which meant that the memory bleed was probably due to Gabriel’s depleted grace. He obviously hadn’t meant to share them. The memories were leaking out without his say-so, and Sam was just being caught in the back-wash. That wasn’t Gabriel’s fault, not really. In fact, Sam thought to himself himself, if Gabriel had been the one seeing _his_ childhood memories, he might have reacted much worse. With an effort, Sam made himself relax.

 

_Sorry. That was unfair._

 

Gabriel didn’t reply, although he did calm down a little, his grace swirling a few more times before deflating with a sigh.

 

Sam thought through the memory again, watching as the shimmering glowing creature dipped and swooped. Now that the shock had died away, he was surprised. _Lucifer was so… different._

 

 **_You saw Heylel as he was, not as he became._ ** Sam felt a wash of foreign grief, quickly smothered by grace. **_He was different back then. We were_ ** **both** **_different back then._ ** He didn't mention the old, cynical hurt still curdling his grace, the ache for lost brotherhood and innocence, and the sharp fresh pain of betrayal, but Sam could feel it. On instinct he tried to reach out, to offer whatever comfort he could in this form, but Gabriel retreated from him. **_I'm fine,_ ** he said tersely, and Sam recoiled as well.

 

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, Gabriel fixing their eyes on the opposite wall, listening to Dean’s quiet snoring in the next bed.

 

 **_You should get some rest,_ ** Gabriel said quietly.

 

 _You too,_ Sam responded. He could feel Gabriel’s exhaustion even when they were as separate as it was possible for them to be when they were in the same body. Sam told himself he wasn’t worried for Gabriel. They’d both need their strength, no matter how afraid Gabriel was of being vulnerable.

 

 **_Yeah._ ** Gabriel sighed. It was telling how easily he agreed.

  
The silence was different now, a little less hostile than it had been, even if there was still a strain of tension between them. It wasn’t even five minutes before they were both asleep again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be here last night, but then the power went out for three hours. #rurallife.
> 
> But anyway, as I have access to my laptop again, there is now ART!! Go check out chapter one and three again if you haven't seen it yet, it really is spectacular!

 

_ The Three Kegs bar, Minnesota _

 

“He’s back.” 

 

Walt looked up in surprise from where he had been picking at the bowl of peanuts on the bar. “Who is?”

 

Roy dropped moodily onto the seat next to him and took a long draught of beer before replying. “Sam Winchester.”

 

Walt’s mood darkened instantly. He craned his neck and glanced around the dingy bar, glaring into all the dark recesses to make sure no one was listening in before daring to turn back to the conversation. As they said, the walls have ears. He stared into the froth of his drink, chewed the inside of his cheek and mulled over the thought that the Winchesters could be walking and talking again. He worked the idea past the disbelief, through the denial and let it settle in his mind with all its horrible, disturbing implications.

 

“Are you sure? Who told ya?” He asked Roy, his voice gruff and strange to his own ears. LIf it was Dave you know he’ll tell you any old bullshit for a free drink.”

 

Roy shook his head. “Crevans saw them wrapping up a job the other week.”

 

Walt raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he took another long slug of bitter, watery beer. Why were they still coming to this dump? “Crevans? He might be right, then.”

 

“Yeah. Says he got there ready to get to work the case but the monster was already dead and burned, saw the back of their heads before they got into that gas guzzler of theirs and drove off like there was a pack of hellhounds after them.”

 

Walt felt his heart sink as he took another gulp. “The hounds were riding with them, more likely.”

 

Roy snorted, not taking him serious, but Walt wouldn’t put it past the Winchesters. The younger one, Sam, had gotten into bed with hellspawn, literally. Walt had a hard time imagining anything they wouldn’t do. Crevans was a good hunter with good intel, a useful guy if you were going after ‘weres or spirits, but all the demonic bullshit was out of his league. They couldn’t take him along with them. Not to mention that he was a godawful gossip, so the rest of the hunter community probably knew about the Winchesters being back by now.

 

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Walt got those bastards first. He had failed once, he wouldn't fail again. He'd find a way to keep the Winchesters down for good this time. He had failed before, but that must have been because he didn't have enough faith. He hadn't been worthy of the glorious cause laid out before him. This time, he was ready. “Crevans say where they were headed?”

 

“Yeah, said they were headin’ east out of Omaha.”

 

Walt threw back the rest of his drink with a grimace, slapping some notes on the bar and pushing towards the door. He heard his companion hurrying after him. “Hope you’ve packed the big guns, Roy. We’ve got work to do.” 

 

Sam Winchester was dead, even if he didn’t know it yet. Walt was going to end the sonufabitch if it was the last thing he did.

 

.o0o.

 

Sam woke the next morning to the disconcerting sensation of his eyes already open and his body moving around without him. Gabriel was grumbling quietly to himself, the vast too-bright glory of his grace pressed as far towards the front of their headspace as he could get, but he perked up as soon as he noticed Sam was awake, turning his attention inwards.

 

**_Finally, you’re awake! I was worried you were comatose back there._ **

 

Sam shook himself, peering past Gabriel to take in their surroundings. They were still in the motel room they’d been in yesterday, so at least Gabriel hadn’t moved them while he was sleeping again. He stretched, trying to shake off the morning grogginess. 

 

_ What’s going on? Where’s Dean?  _

 

Gabriel snorted, turning to start gathering up their scattered belongings, his annoyance at having to do it by hand palpable.  **_Your overbearing brother says we’re going to Bobby’s, so I guess we’re doing that. He’s gone to get breakfast, but I dunno if he’s bringing anything back._ ** Gabriel snickered and showed him a memory of Dean’s face, twisted into indecision between his compulsion to feed Sam and his determination to never do anything nice for Gabriel. Sam chuckled, then quickly stopped himself. Laughing with Gabriel after the tension of the last few days felt… not wrong, exactly, but strange. Almost like something forbidden. But why should it be? Gabriel was on their side. Sam might not trust him about many things, but he trusted him on that.

 

Gabriel, thankfully, didn’t appear to be trying to listen in to Sam’s inner turmoil. He was focused on his hands, stuffing the last shirt haphazardly into the duffel and starting with the weapons.  **_Has anyone ever told you you have too many plaid shirts? And that they’re all hideous?_ **

 

_ Hey, my shirts are fine! Careful, that’s my favourite gun! _

 

Gabriel curled his mouth in a mischievous smile, stuffing the shirts into the duffel willy-nilly in a way that Sam couldn’t decide whether it was inexperience or deliberate untidiness.  **_Winchesters. No fashion sense._ **

 

Sam chose to ignore the ribbing.  _ Why don’t you just fly us to Bobby’s? _ He asked.

 

**_Do you really think your brother would let me teleport his precious car?_ ** Gabriel snorted. **_Not likely._ **

 

But Sam could see something under the words, and it worried him. He prodded at it. Gabriel tried to hide the flash of… something, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

 

_ Don’t lie, Gabriel, _ Sam growled out, irritated.

 

His familiar hands paused on the duffel.  **_What?_ ** The question was just a little too innocent to be truthful.

 

_ You wouldn’t care if Dean didn’t want to be flown. Why won’t you fly us to Bobby’s? _

 

**_Because I don’t want to!_ ** Gabriel retorted belligerently. Sam didn’t even dignify that blatant lie with a response. There was a shifty silence, Gabriel moving uncomfortably inside his brain. 

 

Sam sighed, his irritation fading.  _ Look, _ he said more patiently, _ if this thing with having you on our team is going to work, you can’t be keeping stuff like this a secret. Not if it could affect us. I need to be able to trust you. Please, just tell me. _

 

Still nothing. Sam waited. 

 

**_Fine, it’s because I can’t fly, okay?_ ** Gabriel finally spat out. **_Happy now?_ **

 

_ What do you mean? _

 

Instead of answering, Gabriel  _ uncurled _ . Sam watched in amazement as his grace stretched out, out, out until it felt like his skin was about to burst, and he felt a moment of alarm before the pent up energy surged towards his back, breaking free of the flesh and forming itself into-  _ are those _ \- 

 

Wings. Wings emerging from either side of his spine. Sam had seen the shadows before, always thought that they would feel as incorporeal as they looked to mortal eyes, but no, they were  _ real _ , as real as his arms or legs. More so, even. Limbs made of energy, muscles and tendons made of starlight and space. And he could feel them yearning to unfurl, to open wide, to spread and leap into the sky, the call of freedom so strong it was almost painful. If Sam had been in control, he would have been gaping in awe. If this was what he was feeling secondhand, what was it like for Gabriel? How did Ihe ever stay on the ground?

 

Gabriel started to open his wings, but slowly, cautiously.  _ What are you waiting for? _ Sam asked, confused, but as soon as he did, it became immediately obvious.

 

A bolt of jagged pain lanced through Gabriel’s grace like a flash of lightning, sudden and unstoppable. Gabriel groaned, and his wings snapped closed in instinctive response, but to Sam’s alarm that set off another sharp stab and they froze, half spread, Gabriel taking panting breaths through his open mouth, shaking hands braced on the bed in front of him. 

 

_Woah, woah, I get it! You don’t need to show me, you can put them away! I’m sorry._ _I shouldn’t have pushed._

 

Gabriel carefully folded them in, the grace retreating back into his flesh. Sam waited until he was finished to speak again.  _ What the hell was that? _

 

**_You do remember walking in when Lucifer had a blade through my sternum, right?_ ** The words were bitterly sarcastic again, all joking levity gone, but Sam could see the nauseous ache still burning through Gabriel’s grace. He looked closer and gasped in horror. Gabriel curled away, but it was too late, Sam had seen. There was a great gash, a fissure of darkness where there should have been only currents of light, like a gaping hole in the sun. 

 

_ Is that grace leaking out of you?  _ Sam asked urgently.  _ Are you dying? _

 

**_No, I'll be fine._ ** Sam could hear the  _ eventually  _ under that thought.

 

Sam’s mind whirred, thinking about all the horrible things that seemed to attack the Winchesters on a daily basis.  _ But you can't fly, not like that. Can you fight? _

 

**_Listen, bucko, just because I got shivved doesn't make me an invalid-_ **

 

_ Can you fight?  _ Sam demanded.

 

There was a pause.  **_If I have to_ ** **,** Gabriel said reluctantly.  

 

Sam relaxed a little. Even half depowered, an archangel would probably be a match for anything that came after them short of Lucifer himself. 

 

Gabriel grunted and went back to packing, hissing in annoyance as he once again underestimated the length of his arms and stubbed the ends of Sam’s fingers against the endpost. His injured grace was withdrawn in Sam’s mind, balled up away from him even further than usual. Sam was confused by Gabriel’s sudden mood. What had he said? He replayed their recent conversation in his mind, and with a burst of realisation he realised what the problem was.  _ I didn’t mean I wanted you to fight,  _ he reassured him,  _ I just wanted to be prepared. Lots of things are after us at the moment. But I wouldn’t make you fight Lucifer again!  _ Had Gabriel really thought that Sam might make him try to take on his brother again, so soon after he nearly killed him? Did he think Sam was that sadistic?

 

**_I get it,_ ** Gabriel said, but his grace lost the tension it had been holding itself with, relaxing back into the crevices of his mind. 

 

Wow. He really had thought that Sam might actually try and make him take on his murderous brother with injured grace. What kind of friends must he have had before to make him think that? Sam was surprised by the surge of protective anger he felt towards the archangel. 

 

**_Anyway,_ ** Gabriel continued, **_if things go to plan, neither of us will have to take on my dear brother directly._ **

 

_ Go to plan? What do you mean? _

 

Gabriel took a deep breath, zipping up the duffel.  **_So, you remember that DVD I left you?_ ** Sam nodded internally.  **_That had a few little golden nuggets of information buried in what I can guarantee was some premium footage of yours truly, just in case I kicked the bucket._ **

 

Sam felt a twinge of sinking guilt. He could read between the lines. That DVD Gabriel had given them- that had been his last will and testament. An archangel had been ready to die, for them.  _ You… you really didn’t think you were going to survive yesterday. Did you? _

 

**_Anyway,_** Gabriel interrupted hurriedly, skirting around Sam’s question, **_All you need are the rings from the four Riders of the Apocalypse. Little known fact, you can use them to open the cage. All you gotta do is get Lucifer back in there, and bam, no more apocalypse, no epic battles necessary._**

 

So, Gabriel  _ did  _ have a plan! Guilt pushed aside for the moment, Sam could barely contain his rising excitement.  _ That… that’s amazing! _ For the first time in months, Sam felt a glimmer of hope, and not a little vindication. It had been enough for him that he’d managed to save Gabriel’s life the day before, but to have his suspicions that Gabriel would also be a massive asset to them confirmed would definitely help to convince Bobby and Dean to accept Gabriel into their little group. _ And it would serve Dean right for constantly doubting him _ , a vindictive little voice told him. 

 

But mostly, he was just relieved. They had spent so long trying to find some way, any way to beat this. Hearing that there was a way lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders.  _ Thank you, _ he told Gabriel, trying to project as much sincerity as he could.

 

**_Don’t thank me before we manage to pull it off._ ** Gabriel said. Then he hesitated, and Sam could see that he was nervous.  **_So, we’re okay, right?_ ** He asked tentatively.  **_You and me. I know I haven’t exactly been... reliably on your side in the past._ ** The fresh memory of Gabriel trying to bail the night before was obviously still fresh in both of their minds, mystery spot and TV land looming awkwardly over them.  **_You sure you’re okay with someone as flakey as me renting out headspace in your hot bod?_ ** Despite the joking tone, there was something probing in Gabriel’s thoughts. Like he was looking for the catch. 

 

So Gabriel was still worried about Sam kicking him out. It had only been a day, and Sam was already tired of the constant source of tension between them. Again, what kind of friends (or family) had Gabriel had to make him think like this? What could he say to convince Gabe that he wasn’t going to demand he fix the world for them, and kick him out if he refused? 

 

He sighed, choosing his words carefully.  _ Gabriel, you don’t have to- to earn your place here, or whatever other stupid, intimidation-tactics shit Dean might say. You proved yourself to us plenty back at that hotel. I can’t say I won’t ask you to help us, because let’s face it,  _ Sam huffed a dry laugh, _ this is too much for us to handle. We’re only human. But you don’t need to worry about earning your keep or, or jumping through hoops for us or whatever. We’re good, as long as you don’t try anything like that again. You’re not as annoying to be possessed by as I thought you would be. _

 

Gabriel tried to hide his relief from him, but he didn’t quite manage it.  **_Careful, Sam. That was nearly a complement._ **

 

_ Enjoy it while it lasts,  _ Sam bantered back. Gabriel let out a bark of surprised laughter into the silent motel room, and Sam grinned internally.  _ We need to set some sort of boundaries though, or at least try to. You don’t want me reading your mind all the time, I don’t want you reading mine.  _

 

Gabriel nodded, stretching out their spine with a long series of cracks.  **_Sounds fair. No peeking in your diary like a nosy bastard. I can put up some shields that should stop the worst of the spillover._ **

 

_ Will that stop the memory sharing as well?  _ Sam asked hopefully.

 

**_Hmm. Not sure, what with it happening while we’re asleep. It’s not like I have perfect control over my grace at the minute,_ ** Gabriel muttered reluctantly.

 

There was a click in the lock, and Gabriel turned their head to look just in time to see Dean bustle in the door. He cast a dark look at Gabriel, setting two polystyrene cartons on the table. “Is Sammy awake in there yet?”

 

“Yup. Rip Van Sam woke up a half hour ago.” Gabriel stuffed Sam’s hands into his pockets, slouching in a way that was deliberately un-Sam-like because of the way it made Dean’s soul rankle. Sam internally rolled his eyes.

 

“Good, ‘cos I called Bobby and he’s expecting us. We gotta go. Once we’ve packed-” He looked over at the bed, an eyebrow rising in surprise at the packed duffels. “Oh. I guess we can set off now, then.” He picked up the packed bag, glancing again between it and Gabriel with deep suspicion like he suspected that he might have filled it with live snakes instead of flannels. “I’ll meet you by the car in ten.”

 

He walked out again, and Sam felt Gabriel suppress another grimace.  _ It’s not so bad,  _ Sam told him consolingly.  _ It’s just a road trip. _

 

**_Trapped with your brother and all his classic rock tapes in an enclosed space for five hours is not my idea of a good time. Why can’t my wings heal already?_ ** Gabriel bemoaned.

 

Sam rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as well.  _ Just get in the car. _

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to CaMcPherson for offering up your advice and reassurances on the last chapter, you're the best! ;)

 

Dean finally pulled up to Bobby’s place with a rumble of tires on gravel. Gabriel peered out of the windshield at the battered-looking house coming towards them, surrounded by the abandoned husks of cars. Sam’s memories definitely showed the place in a better light than the grim reality, he thought to himself, but as long as he could get out of this car, he’d take it. 

 

_ We’re here, _ Sam told him, soul uncurling from where he’d been resting, and Gabriel couldn’t have restrained his relief if he’d tried.

 

**_Thank Dad. I’m sorry Sam but if I had to listen to Bon Jovi one more time I’d have to break our truce and stab your brother._ ** Dean hadn’t turned down the volume of what Sam had called his _ I’m-mad-but-we’re not-talking-about-it  _ playlist for the entire journey. He could feel Sam’s amusement, a suggestion of a chuckle tickling against his grace, and it was an oddly pleasant sensation. He’d have to make him laugh more often, he decided. The gigantor needed to loosen up a little. 

 

Gabriel pushed the door open almost before the impala was still, eager to escape the confined space and the classic rock, but he felt a hand grab his arm. Gabriel turned slowly, looking pointedly down at it. Dean slowly removed the offending hand, but the scowl stayed.

 

“Look- Bobby might not take too kindly to the whole possession thing, so if you can just… try and stay under the radar until I can break it to him gently. If that’s even possible for you.”

 

Gabriel smiled too-wide to cover the tension. “Dean. Deano. Dean machine. I spent the last thirty thousand years masquerading as a pagan god. I was the definition of ‘under the radar’. And anyways, Sammy was in theatre club. I think we can swing this.”

 

Dean’s scowl deepened. “Whatever, just follow my lead.”

 

_ I was a technician, _ Sam protested as they got out the car.  _ I was never involved in the acting! _

 

**_What big brother doesn’t know, Sam. Trust me, I can fool one old man. How hard can it be?_ **

 

Dean hopped up the front steps and opened the door ahead of them, walking right in. “Hey, Bobby! We’re here!”

 

Gabriel walked after him, striding tall and confident towards the doorway, and Sam spoke up a second too late.  _ Hey! Watch the- _

 

Thunk. The doorframe connected solidly with his temple, knocking them back a step. An ache bloomed across Sam’s forehead.  _ Ow, that hurt! Watch where you’re walking me! _

 

Gabriel rubbed Sam's head, glaring at the door as though it had personally wronged him.  **_Hey, if you weren't so tall maybe I wouldn't have so many problems controlling this damn vessel!_ **

 

_ Maybe if your last vessel hadn’t been so short, you wouldn’t keep giving me concussions!  _ Sam fired back as they ducked into Bobby’s house.

 

**_Why you cheeky little-_ **

 

_ Anyway, aren't angels supposed to be able to control their vessels perfectly?  _ Sam interrupted.  _ Cas didn't seem to have any problems. _

 

**_Castiel hasn't been in any one vessel for more than a decade. I don't think your puny human brain can even compute the length of time I had mine before you two walking agents of chaos came along._ ** He felt another pang of homesickness for his lost vessel.

 

Before he could start to dwell on it, Bobby wheeled himself around the corner. Gabriel snapped up straight. “Sam! Good to see ya, boy. Heard there was some trouble on the way here.” Bobby clapped him on the arm, squinting up into his face, grey eyes sharp on his. “Say, you’re looking a bit peaky. Everything okay?”

 

Gabriel quickly grimaced, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “Fine, just a long journey you know? Dean wouldn’t turn off the Zeppelin.”

 

“If you’re sure,” Bobby turned away, his eyes lingering just a little too long on Sam’s face. “Come on.”

 

Bobby led them through to the study. Sam was watching him nervously, and Gabriel followed along with his thoughts, seeing Singer through Sam’s eyes. There was tension in his arms, hands clenching a little too hard on the wheels. Bobby knew something was up.  _ Why don’t you let me take over for a bit?  _ Sam suggested.  _ You won’t be able to fool him for long, he’s already suspicious. _

 

Gabriel hesitated, enough for Sam to feel a whisper of nervousness slip through.  **_I can handle this, Sam, it’s-_ **

 

_ I’m not trying to trap you! I just don’t want us to end up with another angel blade in the chest! _

 

Gabriel flinched back, fear flashing through his grace, and he knew that Sam had felt it because he felt his regret but he hastily shoved his walls back up anyway.  **_Trust me, I’m not keen on that either. So we just need to be more convincing. I can do it._ **

 

Bobby interrupted their thoughts. “Get over here, I got somethin’ to show ya.” He beckoned them across the room towards his desk. Gabriel stepped out away from the doorway to walk towards him. 

 

Faster than he had thought Bobby could move, he struck a match, throwing it down near Sam’s feet. Flames sprung up, spreading supernaturally fast to encircle them. A wave of  **_no-stop-can’t-trapped_ ** panic instantly reared up and almost crushed Sam before Gabriel forcefully tamped it down. There was a flash of pain as his wings jerked instinctively against his back, trying to get away, but Gabriel couldn’t spread them, mustn’t spread them even if he wanted to fly far, far away from the cloying smell of burning oil and the dangerous heat stroking clawed fingers across his feathers.

 

He forced it all down, swallowing, a quick bob of his throat. He tried to act nonchalant, but even he could hear the strain obvious in Sam’s voice. “What the hell, Bobby? Let me out. This is crazy.”

 

“Oh yeah? Well come on out, then. Just a little fire, shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

Gabriel looked down at the flames, jaw clenching. Bobby’s jaw clenched as well under his beard, his eyes hard as slate as he grabbed his shotgun from next to his wheelchair. “Thought so.”

 

Gabriel smiled ruefully, dropping the deception. “No flies on you, old man.”

 

“You’re not my boy. You might be wearing his skin but you ain’t him. So you listen to me, whatever you are. I’ll get you out of him, whatever the cost. It’s what he’d want, I know that.” There was a low intensity to Bobby’s voice that made goosebumps rise up the back of Sam’s neck. There was a chill in Bobby’s eyes that was more terrifying than all of Dean’s shouting put together. It made his blood run cold. It made even Gabriel, an archangel, want to take a step back, and that was saying something. 

 

Sam looked desperately out at the man he loved sighting down his gun at them.  _ Bobby _ ...

 

“What the hell is going on in here!?” They all turned. Dean was stood in the doorway, eyes wide, taking in the flames and the shotgun.

 

“Dean, that ain’t your brother you idjit! What were you thinking bringing it here?”

 

_ Gabriel, let me out! _ Sam said urgently, pushing against Gabriel’s nervously shifting bulk.

 

Gabriel tried, but it didn’t work, he was too tense.  **_I can’t!_ **

 

Focusing on the man in front of him, Gabriel tried to speak. “Singer, just listen to me-”

 

“No, you listen to me!” Bobby erupted. Sam’s mind kept flinging out memories, projecting loudly in his distress, and Gabriel had no choice but to see them, but there wasn’t another memory of him spitting angry like this, not even when he’d driven John out of the house on the other end of his shotgun. “You get out of my boy, you hear me!?”

 

Gabriel snorted impulsively, a millennia of trickster defiance rearing to the surface. “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”

 

Sam cringed back. Bobby’s nostrils flared, the veins in his neck standing proud as he cocked the gun. “Don’t push me, you feathered asswipe. I don’t want to, but I ain’t letting nothing use my boy’s body to cause the damn apocalypse.”

 

Gabriel was temporarily thrown. “Hang on a second. Who do you think I am?”

 

Bobby snorted, sighting down his gun, his face a tortured grimace. “The devil, of course! You’re not foolin’ me! Sam, I’m so sorry.”

 

Dean stepped forwards. “Woah, hang on, Bobby, wait a second-”

 

There was a loud bang as the muzzle of the gun bucked. “Sammy!” They heard Dean’s panicked shout. Gabriel felt the impact, and then the sting as the balls of lead tore through his clothing and the flesh underneath. The impact was enough to knock him back a few paces, only to pitch forwards again as the flames licked warningly against his back. Sam yelled in shock, and Gabriel hurriedly threw a blanket of grace over his mind, shielding him from the pain. He pushed his diminished grace out towards the wounds, healing Sam’s body, forcing the shot out of his chest until it clattered to the floor like lead rain.

 

He scowled back at the old man as Sam’s soul slowly calmed. “Ow! That hurt!” 

 

Bobby drew back the stock again, and Gabriel quickly held up a hand. He had little enough grace as it was. “Easy, old man, I’m not Lucifer! Not the devil! Sam let me in voluntarily, honest!”

 

Dean stepped in front of Bobby’s chair, his back to Sam. “Regular shot doesn’t work against angels, Bobby, you know that!”

 

“Makes me feel better though,” Bobby grunted. 

 

Dean kept going. “You remember we told you about how that trickster from a few years ago turned out to be the archangel Gabriel?”

 

Bobby was still eyeing them all suspiciously from under his cap, glaring around Dean’s waist at Gabriel, his hands still resting on the gun. “Yeah, what about it?” Dean glanced meaningfully at Sam, and Bobby’s eyes widened. “He did not.”

 

Dean nodded, looking less than enthusiastic. “He got himself stabbed by Lucifer, and Sam was soft enough and stupid enough to run back in afterwards and… volunteer.”

 

Gabriel felt his grace flinch at the mention of stabbing, a brief echo of the terrible icy cold flashing through him, though he was careful not to let the vessel show it. He hadn’t managed to hide it from Sam though, because the kid reached out a concerned tendril of his soul towards him. Gabriel gently, gingerly fended him off. He didn’t think that Sam even knew he was doing it. “Oh sure, miss out the part where I heroically saved your asses from the hotel full of angry pagan gods!” He threw back at Dean.

 

Dean harrumphed. Bobby ignored their bickering, too-sharp eyes still narrowed as he assessed them. The muzzle of his gun lowered slightly. “And Sam’s still alive in there, I’m guessing? Given how Dean hasn’t killed you and all.”

 

Gabriel nodded. “Yep. Conscious and everything.”

 

“Then you won’t mind if I have a little talk with him.” It wasn’t a question.

 

Gabriel faked a smile. “Sure!” He turned his attention inwards, to where Sam was anxiously watching the scene.  **_Get out there and convince him not to fill us full of lead, would you?_ ** He demanded urgently.

 

Sam shifted nervously. _ I don’t know how to take over! It just kinda happened last time. _

 

Gabriel could have screamed.  **_What do you mean you don’t know!?_ **

 

“Well? We ain’t got all day!”

 

**_Raspberries._ ** “We’re doing it, we’re doing it! Jeez, impatient much?”

 

_ Okay, I’ll push forward, you pull back. Three, two, one- _

 

Gabriel pulled, shoving his way to the back of their headspace, but neither of them had taken into account that Sam’s mind, being smaller, had farther to travel. With nobody in control, Sam’s body slumped, knees buckling. Faster than thought, Gabriel mentally grabbed Sam, shunting him forwards into the driver’s seat just in time for him to put his hands out and prevent them from breaking their nose on Bobby’s tatty rug. 

 

Sam bounced back to his feet, grinning at Bobby’s stunned expression and ignoring his brother’s concerned look. “I’m okay! I’m okay!”

 

“The hell was that?”

 

“We’re just not very synchronised yet, alright?” Sam said defensively. Inside, Gabriel was still desperately trying to tuck his bulk away so it wouldn’t crush Sam. It would be so easy for it to happen- he would only have to lose control for half a second and… Gabriel refused to even think about it. No matter how much Sam frustrated him.

 

Bobby was giving him a once-over with a critical eye. “Well, you certainly look more like Sam now, but that ain’t saying much. You know what comes next, boys. For both of you.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, Bobby! Are you saying you don’t trust us?”

 

Bobby wheeled himself over to the cabinet and pulled out the silver knives and holy water. “I’m sayin’ that the only reason I’ve survived this long is by being a paranoid bastard. Now make yourself useful and put out that holy fire.”

 

Grumbling, Dean picked up the bucket of sand. Gabriel sighed to himself in relief as the flames were extinguished.

 

A barrage of supernatural tests later, and Bobby was finally convinced that neither of them were shapeshifters or ghouls. Sam had recounted several embarrassing stories on request, which made Dean chuckle and seemed to reassure Bobby that it was indeed Sam that he was talking to. Gabriel sat back, keeping himself as small as he could in Sam’s head while they chatted. It was strange letting the vessel take control, to feel the body moving without him, to not be the one in charge. He had a new appreciation for all the poor vessels his siblings were occupying. He couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to be crushed by Zachariah’s bureaucratic bulk. He scowled to himself. He’d never liked that seraph.

 

“So, Gabriel, huh,” Bobby raised a bushy eyebrow as he poured them all a whisky. Gabriel watched as Sam reached out and took one from him, a little envious of his dexterity despite those enormous paws he called hands. “Another archangel. Talk about appearing at the eleventh hour. And from what I hear, he’s changed his tune since the last time you boys saw him.” 

 

Gabriel coiled up a little tighter at the thinly veiled accusation. He couldn’t even deny Bobby’s words. Bitterly, he wondered what would have happened if he’d stopped wallowing in self-pity a little earlier and helped the Winchesters instead of trapping them in TV land. Maybe Sam would dislike him a little less, for starters.

 

“Well, he did appear, and he’s on our side, which is more than we can say for the rest of the angels.” Sam reminded them mildly. Gabriel was surprised to hear the kid defending him, and he couldn’t help lighting up a little. He quickly tried to hide it. Sam was just trying to make a better case for their new plan. He shouldn’t get his hopes up for there being anything more than strictly business between them. 

 

Bobby’s seemingly perpetual scowl deepened. “Well seeing as mister high and mighty finally showed up to this rodeo, does he have anything interesting to add to the discussion or is he just here to mooch off your soul energy?”

 

Sam grinned at him. “Actually, he does! So the plan is- actually, wait, he should tell you.”

 

**_Do I have to?_ ** Gabriel grumbled. He wasn’t exactly enjoying being compressed at the back of Sam’s brain, but the thought of emerging to face the music was suddenly a lot worse. Sam rolled his eyes, and to Gabriel’s surprise, seemed to somehow grab hold of his grace and tug him forwards. He was so shocked that Sam had done it that he let it happen. 

 

He blinked at Bobby and Dean, who were looking equally surprised. “Uh… hi again?”

 

“You had a plan?” Dean prompted curtly.

 

“Oh, yeah. Well, half a plan. Most of a plan.” Gabriel swirled the alcohol around the bottom of his glass to avoid looking at the hunters who were staring him down. He could still feel their expectant gazes drilling into the top of his skull. “But it’s better than whatever scribbled down bullshit you've been working off up ‘till now. Seeing as I’m stuck on this little suicide mission, I thought it might be time to step up to the plate. First-”

 

“How do we know you won’t turn around and betray us, huh?” Dean interrupted him. Gabriel shot him an annoyed glare, which Dean returned with interest. “You’re not the most trustworthy ally we’ve got.”

 

Gabriel fended off the jab of hurt and snorted. “Listen here you little bottom-feeding barnacle, at the moment, I’m the only ally you’ve got. So maybe cut it out with the resentful staring, capisce? Besides,” he turned away slightly, growing more serious, “I owe your brother a life debt. That means something to angels, and it means even more to pagans. So I don’t care what version of my story you believe, I’m bound to you losers until we make it out of this mess. So let’s make it quick.”

 

**_What do you think? Convincing?_ ** Gabriel asked Sam privately.

 

_ Bottom-feeding barnacle? Really? _

 

**_Shut up, you’re just in awe of my awesome nickname skills, don’t deny it._ **

 

_ Sure, you’re a witty genius,  _ Sam replied dryly. Gabriel snickered.

 

“As I was saying before I was  _ rudely  _ interrupted…” he shot Dean another dirty look, “before I almost died, I gave you a DVD with a few hints on it I hoped would help, if you managed to pull even more miracles out of your asses than usual. Here's the deal; the four rings of the horsemen of the apocalypse create a key. That key unlocks the cage in hell and creates a doorway straight down to hell’s lockbox. After that, it’s just the simple task of getting my most powerful brother to willingly fling himself into the pit. Shouldn’t be too difficult,” he muttered to himself sarcastically.

 

Bobby looked impressed, and even Dean looked considerate before his expression closed off into skepticism and he snorted. “That’s your plan, seriously? Even if we do manage to gather the rings, there’s no way to lock the devil away!”

 

Gabriel cut Dean an unimpressed look. “What, so you knew about the horseman rings before I told you? This plan’s a work in progress, I’m making this up as we go. We all know what your plans would look like, Dean, and something tells me that dangling a pie and a copy of ‘busty Asian beauties’ over the hole isn’t going to cut it!”

 

Bobby let out a snort of laughter, then tried to hide it by pouring himself more whiskey when Dean turned to glare at him. “Well, two down, two to go I guess.”

 

Gabriel looked at him in confusion. “Two down?”

 

“Yeah, we already got War’s ring. Cornered him in Colorado a few months ago, managed to get the ring off the slippery bastard. Then Famine a few weeks after that.”

 

Gabriel boggled for a second, then whirled on Sam.  **_You’ve got War and Famine’s rings!? Why didn’t you tell me?!_ **

 

_ You didn’t ask! And I might have forgotten? Hey, don’t look at me like that, we’ve been busy, okay? _

 

Gabriel gave a disbelieving laugh. “Okay, two down I guess. You’re actually resourceful. Who knew? Anybody else got something to share? The arc of the Covenant, maybe?”

 

“No need to get smart with us, boy,” Bobby grumbled.

 

“What, you’re not hiding God’s toenail clippings in the desk drawer?” Gabriel teased. “I’m ashamed, old man. You call yourself a hunter?”

 

Dean growled, getting wound up as always, but Bobby just ignored him, rolling his eyes and knocking back the last dregs of his whisky. “Well, I can’t do all this thinkin’ on an empty stomach. How long’s it been since you boys ate? All day, most likely.”

 

“I’ll go make us something,” Dean muttered, getting up. He walked quickly over the burnt ring and through to the kitchen, like he was keen to get away from Gabriel.

 

As soon as he was gone, Bobby turned back to Sam, fingers tapping against the wheels of his chair, looking at him with an assessing eye. “So. After all that effort to keep you out of Lucifer’s hands, you go and get yourself possessed.”

 

Gabriel couldn’t get out of the control seat fast enough. Let Sam deal with his father figure. He curled up at the back of his brain as Sam moved forwards again. He shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable under the intense stare. “Uh, yeah. It wasn’t exactly planned.” He huffed. “Dean said almost the exact same thing to me.”

 

“So he didn’t threaten you into it? No coercion or anything?” Bobby demanded. 

 

Gabriel tried his best not to be offended. Like he’d ever coerce his vessels! But he couldn’t blame the old man. He was just trying to look out for his family, Gabriel could get that. And he had been watching the Winchesters for long enough to witness Zachariah’s less than pleasant attempts to persuade Dean to become Michael’s sword- after that, it was no wonder they were dubious about angels in general. Another time Gabriel had been too cowardly to intervene.

 

“No. No, Bobby, it wasn’t like that.” Sam took a deep breath. “He- he stood up to Lucifer for us, and it didn’t go well for him. Lucifer destroyed his other vessel.”

 

Bobby nodded, looking marginally more impressed, but one bushy eyebrow was still raised in skepticism. “You’re really okay with him living in your head?”

 

“Yeah.” Gabriel was surprised by the sincerity in Sam’s voice. “Yeah, I am. He’s not as bad as we thought he was.”

 

**_Screw you, Winchester, I’m a delight._ ** Sam snorted, a smile involuntarily spreading over his face.

 

Bobby mulled it over, his eyes still flicking over Sam’s expression. Eventually, he grimaced, adjusting his cap before leaning over to add his empty glass to the collection on the table. “Well, can’t say I understand it, but whatever. You say he’s on our side, I trust you.”  

 

“You two gonna come and eat your lunch or what?” Dean yelled irritably from the kitchen.

 

“Keep your hair on!” Bobby shouted back. “Come on,” he beckoned them, wheeling himself towards the kitchen, “before he eats ours ours outta spite.”

 

...

 

Sam followed Bobby into the kitchen. Dean was already seated at the table, a pile of hastily-prepared sandwiches heaped in front of him. His scowl, which was becoming a permanent feature these days, softened a fraction when he met Sam’s eyes and realised he was in charge. 

 

“Made lunch.” Dean gestured to the plates on the table through a mouthful of his own sandwich. Bobby grunted thanks, reaching across the table to grab one. Sam eagerly reached forwards, still relishing the normalcy of settling into his own skin. He hadn’t expected to be so hungry with an angel possessing him. Maybe it was because Gabriel was so low on power? Or maybe it was Gabriel’s half pagan nature? Either way, he was starving.

 

**_You won't be able to taste it,_ ** Gabriel spoke up from where he’d been hiding at the back of his head.

 

Sam paused, one hand hovering over the sandwiches.  _ What?  _

 

**_Why do you think Castiel doesn't eat all those pies your brother keeps trying to ram down his throat? Angelic perception messes up your taste buds._ **

 

_ What? You’re an angel, surely you could make yourself taste things if you wanted to! _

 

**_No can do. Trust me, I’ve been trying to get around it for millennia, I don’t like it either. Major design flaw. If pops ever gets back from his universal bar crawl, that’s on the top of my complaints list._ **

 

Sam looked back down at the sandwich and scowled. What, so he couldn’t even eat a sandwich anymore? Deliberately, in a fit of impulsive rebellion, he picked it up anyway and took an obnoxiously large bite. 

 

And immediately he almost choked. It was… overwhelming. The bread didn’t taste like bread anymore. Instead, it was a hundred thousand impressions all mashed together into one dissonant mess- sensory overload prickling over his tongue and behind his eyes. He spat it out and looked down at the sad remains of his sandwich in shocked dismay. 

 

Bobby watched him spluttering with surprise. Dean looked askance between him and his spat-out food. “Dude.”

 

_ What the hell was that!? _ Sam squawked to Gabriel.

 

He could feel the ripples of Gabriel’s amusement.  **_Told you so._ **

 

_ Eugh.  _ Sam wiped some crumbs off his tongue with a grimace.  _ Is there anything I can taste still?  _ He asked a little petulantly.

 

**_Sugar._ **

 

Sam wasn’t impressed.  _ Sugar? Really? _

 

**_Why do you think I was always eating candy? I wasn’t playing Willy Wonka for nothing._ **

 

Sam hesitantly stood and walked over to Bobby’s kitchen cupboards, reaching right into the back and pulling out the ancient packet of sugar. He pulled a spoon out of the draining rack and dubiously stared down at the clumped crystals. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dean and Bobby watching him curiously, and it wasn't helping. Reluctantly, he heaped the sugar onto the spoon and brought it up towards his mouth. It wavered a little, a couple of granules dropping back to the table.

 

Gabriel nudged him encouragingly.  **_Just try it. Go on._ **

 

Dean was watching with a bit of disgust and a lot of fascination. Sam grimaced and put the spoon in his mouth. 

 

The grains dissolved on his tongue. He scrunched his face up, prepared for another onslaught, but unlike with the sandwich, there was barely a whisper. It wasn’t overpowering. He could actually taste the sugar under the low buzz of molecules.

 

_ Why can I taste it, though? _ He asked Gabriel curiously, piling up another spoonful.  _ Why is sugar any different from bread? _

 

Gabriel hummed thoughtfully.  **_Sugar is glucose, sucrose. Simple stuff, not a lot of information in there. Just carbon, oxygen and hydrogen bound in a ring. Made and broken apart faster than I can snap your fingers. It’s the same with salt. Just ions. There’s no history. But bread? That’s got some big, complex molecules you got there. Fats, cellulose, proteins- it’s all just too much noise. Something had to make those molecules, a plant had to take time and energy and intent synthesising them, and boom. That’s what you can taste._ **

 

Sam nodded slowly, crunching the grains between his teeth.  _ So it’s living things interacting with them that gives it the taste? _

 

**_You got it._ **

 

Sam’s mind was whirling, digesting this new information about angelic senses.  _ So how was Cas craving burgers when we went after famine? _

 

Gabriel shuddered on seeing the memories.  **_Damn, his grace must have been low for urges to be coming from his vessel. Famine must have really had his claws in him, because eating meat as a powered up angel? Nearly unbearable. You get used to it after a while if you have to, and it’s alright once you’re desensitised. I did it enough while I was hiding with the pagans. But the first few times..._ **

 

_ So I should turn down the burgers the next time Dean tries to force-feed me them? _

 

**_As much as it kills me to say this, Samarillo, you’re better off with the salads, trust me. Or candy. Preferably candy._ **

 

“Earth to Sam!” Dean’s voice cut through his internal conversation. Sam blinked, looking up. Apparently while he’d been talking with Gabriel, Dean and Bobby had managed to polish off the entire plate of sandwiches. Dean was scowling at him, waving a hand in front of him. “What the hell is going on with you? That asshat giving you a hard time?”

 

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Dean’s constant attitude towards Gabriel was starting to get on his nerves as well. “No, Gabe’s just explaining why your sandwiches taste like ass to me now.”

 

“Hey!” Dean said, affronted. “Those were good sandwiches!”

 

Sam shrugged, looking moodily down at the packet of sugar. He was still hungry, but could he really bring himself to eat the entire thing? He teeth started to hurt just at the thought.

 

**_Here, let me back up there,_ ** Gabriel poked at him. Curiously, Sam let Gabriel replace him in the front seat with only the slightest wobble. Gabriel grabbed the edge of the table for balance, setting the sugar down on the table before he could spill it. Sam felt it as his damaged grace gathered its strength, reaching out, expanding his awareness out into the world, searching for something. He found it, and with a snap, he pulled it towards them.

 

Gabriel opened their eyes again, and Sam found himself staring down at the bright wrapper of a candy bar. Gabriel grinned despite the alarming drain on his energy, ripping into it and taking a large bite. Sam winced again in anticipation, but it wasn’t as bad as the sandwich. He could still taste the chocolate under the buzz of surplus information.

 

Gabriel chewed and swallowed, ignoring Dean’s renewed scowl.  **_What d’you think? Better?_ **

 

It wasn’t too bad. At least he wasn’t as hungry any more. It was better than the sandwich at least, and more appealing than eating an entire sugar packet. He still wasn’t looking forward to a candy-only diet until this whole thing was over. _ It’s okay. _

 

“If you’ve finished over there, we’ve still got an apocalypse to deal with.” Dean pushed away from the table, making the chair legs squeal as he got up and stalked back towards the study. Bobby sighed in exasperation at the dirty plates abandoned on the table before turning his chair to follow. Gabriel wandered after them, casually banishing the candy wrapper. 

 

...

 

Dean was already leaning back against Bobby’s desk when they got there, arms crossed over his chest. The food didn’t seem to have improved his mood, Gabriel thought. “So, what now?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, getting back to business. “Find the rest of the rings, I guess. Like you said, two down, two to go. It’s not like we can do much else until we’ve got them.” He could feel Sam watching the conversation closely from the back of his mind.

 

Bobby wheeled himself over to his desk shooing Dean out of the way. “You got any idea where these horsemen might be?”

 

Gabriel considered. “Well, Pestilence shouldn’t be too difficult to track using omens.”

 

“And Death?”

 

“I’ve known Death since I was a fledgling, leave him to me. But we should wait until we have Pestilence’s before going after him. It shouldn’t be too hard for me to persuade him, but if we do that first, Luci will be onto us. He knows about the cage key too, so he’ll be watching. And I wouldn’t put it past him to be keeping an eye on Death especially; the grumpy old git always hated anyone trying to control him so I’d bet he’s doing everything he can to break away. So we tackle Death last. The greater the element of surprise we have, the better.”

 

Bobby glanced at him and nodded, rubbing at his beard, in full hunter mode. “So, what’re we looking for with Pestilence? Anything specific we can track?”

 

“Pestilence does exactly what it says on the tin. Disease outbreaks, epidemics, unexplained deaths. Add on the usual demonic omens, ‘cos you can bet he’ll have a demonic entourage given who his new sponsor is.”

 

Bobby’s eyes lit up. “You know, I think I might have something.” He turned in his seat, rummaging around in the newspaper clippings scattered across the desk until he uncovered one. “This look like anything to you?”

 

Gabriel walked over and took it from him, eyebrows raising. “‘Outbreak of salmonella in Houston kills fifty six, hospitalises a hundred’. Looks good to me. That’s the sort of scale we’re looking for, that and bigger. Anything else pestilence-related?” 

 

“Not that I know of. I’ll put in a call to the CDC to see if there’s any other weird goings on out that way.”

 

Dean interrupted gruffly. “Thanks Bobby.” He scowled at Gabriel. “You, get in the car. We’re going to Houston.” He turned his back, walking towards the front door. 

 

Gabriel watched him go for a second, surprised at his abrupt exit, then rolled his eyes. Trust Deano to want to leave the moment he wasn’t in control or the centre of attention, he thought sourly to himself. A thread of similar irritation curled around Sam’s soul. Bobby huffed. “Better go after him, he’s not a patient one. I’ll keep you posted on the Pestilence outbreaks.”

 

“Thanks, Gramps. We’ll be in touch.” Gabriel turned to go, but before he could Bobby caught his arm. Something tweaked at Gabriel’s awareness. But his attention was caught by Bobby himself looking up into his eyes, suddenly serious and intense. “You look after my boy, you hear?” The undercurrent of threat was audible. Gabriel had heard enough rumours in the supernatural community to know that getting on the man’s bad side wasn’t a good idea, archangel or not. Monsters didn’t survive underestimating Robert Singer.

 

Gabriel ignored Sam’s internal grumbling that he didn’t need anyone looking after him and replied with all the sincerity he could muster. “You got it, pops. He’s safe with me.”

 

Bobby released him. “Good. Or there’ll be hell to pay. Now get outta here.”

 

Gabriel turned, but paused again. His eyes drifted down to the chair that the man was sitting in. His awareness twinged again, and he squinted closer. Was that demonic energy wrapped around the man’s spine, right over the break? He wavered for a second, but what the hell. This was the apocalypse, they needed all the help they could get. He reached out, and in a flash, snapped the energy that was preventing the man’s recovery, rejoining the nerves and healing the tissue damage.

 

He drew back his grace, wincing a little internally at the drain on his powers, and wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Don’t have too much fun at the barn dances, Singer, there’s an apocalypse going on.” Gabriel flashed a grin at him, amused by his open-mouthed expression of shock, and trotted out of the house to catch up with Dean before Bobby could recover enough to say anything. 

 

Inside, Sam’s joy was a brilliant beacon in his mind, awe and respect making him so bright that Gabriel almost shied away from it. He was glorious, nearly as bright as Heylel himself had once been.  _ You healed him! You healed Bobby! That was amazing, I could feel you doing it! Oh my god, thank you! _

 

Gabriel smiled.  **_Have I mentioned I like your old man?_ ** He told Sam, deflecting the praise.

 

_ He’s not technically our dad.  _ Sam replied, ever pedantic, but there was was a warm glow of happiness still coming from his soul. Gabriel couldn’t stop himself from basking in it.  _ But yeah, Bobby’s great. We’d both be long gone if it wasn’t for him. So thank you, seriously. It’ll mean a lot to him. It means a lot to me. _

 

Sam was happy that they’d all accepted his decision to let Gabriel possess him. No, it was more than that, Gabriel realised with consternation, Sam was relieved that Singer hadn’t been  _ angry  _ at him. Hadn’t taken it out on him for his decisions. As glad as Gabriel was that the Winchester’s father figure seemed to have accepted him, it was sad that Sam was constantly waiting for his only living family to drop the boot of disapproval on him. It made Gabriel feel a little angry on his behalf. Why should Sam have to live in fear of putting a foot wrong? 

 

And, speaking of disapproval, here was the main culprit. He caught up with Dean just as he got to the impala.

 

Dean was glaring at him from the driver’s side, which didn’t do anything to improve his mood. “You gonna get in or what? We’ve got places to be, the apocalypse doesn’t wait.” 

 

Gabriel felt the annoyance he’d been feeling all day begin to bubble over. “Oh yeah, well how about taking the time to heal Bobby’s legs, huh? Do you think we could spare five minutes of your precious time for that?”

 

Dean gaped at him, his eyes going wide. For half a second there was nothing but wonder on his face, the hard shell of anger dropping away from his soul, like a glimpse of the hopeful boy that Dean must once have been. “You healed him?”

 

“Spine and everything. Even cleared up the muscle atrophy.”

 

The wonder didn’t last for long. Dean gave him maybe one more second of gratitude before his expression clouded over with stubborn dislike. “Thanks,” Dean muttered grudgingly. 

 

Gabriel clenched Sam’s jaw. What the hell did he have to prove to Dean Winchester that he was trying to help here!? “I didn’t do it for you,” he spat, “I did it for him. Hard to fight the apocalypse when you need help getting up stairs.” He didn’t mention the depression he had been able to smell all over the man. Hopefully having functioning legs again would help with that as well.

 

Dean didn’t reply, just gave him a dirty look as he swung himself into the driver’s seat. Sam sighed, the happiness fading and his mind recoiling slightly from the anger they could both see roiling in Dean’s soul.  _ Do you think you could at least try to get along with Dean? _ He asked irritably.

 

Gabriel ignored the tense atmosphere and Dean’s unsubtle glaring, jamming Sam’s long legs into the passenger seat and settling in. This was going to be a long journey, and he could feel himself fading already. Damn drained grace and human vessel.  **_Hey, don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault if he’s unreasonable and you know it. Bobby’s fine with me after fifteen minutes and an explanation. Dean’s angry because I’m useful so he doesn’t have an acceptable excuse to openly hate on me, and instead of dealing with it like a regular person, he’s taking it out via passive aggression. Real mature._ **

 

Sam didn’t reply, but Gabriel knew that he knew that he was right. And his happiness from before hadn’t completely faded. Gabriel watched it as Sam coiled himself up in the back of his mind, preparing himself for another awkward car journey. He would give a lot to see Sam’s soul light up like that again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps the top of the chapter* This bad boy can fit so much angst into it.

 

The heavy pressure of Gabriel’s grace against Sam’s consciousness slowly eased. It was so gradual at first that Sam hadn’t noticed it, lulled into a doze by the rumbling vibrations of the seat under them, but he suddenly realised that he couldn’t feel Gabriel’s thoughts murmuring indistinctly behind his shields. Gabriel’s grace had drawn back from the controls, letting his eyes slide shut, his hands lax against the seat.

 

 _Gabriel?_ Sam asked hesitantly. No response. He prodded against the archangel’s bulk. _Gabriel!_  

 

The grace stirred slightly, like one eye mentally slitting open, then rolled over with a grumble and went back to sleep. Sam felt a wash of relief. Just resting, then.

 

It was amazing how fast he had become accustomed to the grace within him. He hadn’t thought that he’d ever get used to the constant pressure, but here he was, only two days later and already he had no problems thinking under the weight of the archangel living in his brain. And that would never not be a strange thought. It was even disconcerting now to see Gabriel’s mind so… quiet. He was usually buzzing, flicking between thoughts and emotions like a hummingbird, almost faster than Sam could follow.

 

Not that Sam tried to follow Gabriel’s thoughts. He tried to stay out of Gabriel’s mind as much as he could, but there was only so much he could do when they were pressed together like peas in a pod.

 

Sam crept out of the place where he was hidden at the back of his own mind, sliding past Gabriel’s bulk, careful not to wake him, and slipped into control. He took a deep breath, savouring the feeling of air flowing in an out out of his lungs on his command. He opened his eyes.

 

The road they were driving on could have been any that they had travelled over the years, another blank expanse of tarmac lit by the twin beams. Even with Gabriel asleep, his eyes were more acute, the grace wound into him stretching out and flashing impressions of the sleeping world outside the car. As soon as he moved Dean turned sharply to face him.

 

“Sammy?” The word was loud in the silence.

 

Sam suppressed a smile. It was reassuring that, even after how much heaven and hell had both changed them, his brother could still recognise him by body language alone. “Yeah, Dean,” he replied quietly, “it’s me.”

 

Dean seemed to sag with relief for a moment, his eyes softening, one hand loosening on the steering wheel as though he was about to reach out and clasp Sam’s shoulder as he would have two years ago.

 

Then his expression hardened again. He looked back at the road, fingers tapping an agitated pattern. “Where’s the trickster? I wouldn’t have thought he’d let you up for air.”

 

A field of corn flashed past, stems briefly illuminated past the fence. “He’s asleep.”

 

Dean snorted. “Figures.” They were quiet for a few seconds, then Dean’s hard expression eased into something more thoughtful. “He shouldn’t need to though, right? It’s bad that he’s sleeping. He’s that low on power?”

 

Sam nodded. “He hates mentioning it, but yeah. It was… it was Lucifer. You didn’t see what happened back at that hotel, Dean, but it was pretty bad. And then healing Bobby tired him out again. He can’t fly, I felt it, he can’t even unfurl his wings.” Sam felt his breath catch in his lungs just at the memory of the second-hand sensation. “He couldn’t even contain me yesterday. I think that frightened him.”

 

Dean’s expression, which had relaxed just a little at the mention of Bobby, stiffened again. “Huh. serves him right for trying to run out on us.”

 

They were quiet again for a minute. Sam could almost feel Dean thinking next to him.

 

Finally, he obviously couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “Why did you do it, Sammy? Why let him in? We’ve been fighting so hard to avoid this, and then you just go and-” He gestured sharply at Sam’s body, hand thumping back onto the steering wheel. “And you didn’t even talk to me about it, man. You didn’t even tell me what you were gonna do. I thought we were meant to be working together here!”

 

Sam turned to scowl at him. “There was no time, Dean! By the time I got there Lucifer already had his bade in Gabe’s chest!”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“He got stabbed, Dean. What the hell did you think happened?”

 

Dean shrugged genuine surprise in his voice. “I dunno, nobody told me, I thought… a few scratches or something. I didn’t think it was as bad as that.” He looked more thoughtful now, and Sam knew that his brother was thinking over all the times they’d interacted since, fitting the new information into the bigger picture. Another detail in the case.

 

Sam sighed. “There was no time, Dean, believe me. I had to save him then or it was gonna be too late. I didn’t have a choice.”

 

“You did, though.” Dean countered. “You could have left him there. Why choose to save him, of all things?”

 

Inside, Gabriel rolled over against Sam’s mind, his grace warm where it reached out towards him, like an arm coming down heavy and lax over his shoulders. Sam gently, reluctantly, pushed him away.

 

“I suppose… I still had faith. That Gabriel was still good under all the- under all the trickster-ish parts. And I suspected he might have a plan.”

 

“But you didn’t know, right?” Dean demanded. “You didn’t know before you ran in there that he had anything that might help us?”

 

Sam turned to face the window so that Dean couldn’t see his grimace. Sometimes, his attitudes reminded him too much of their dad. Like their only possible existence was as soldiers in a war. As though the only reason for saving someone was the information they carried or how good they were in combat. He had been getting better, before the apocalypse began; Sam knew that it had hardened all of them. Made them colder, crueller. But still, he hated having to scrape for his justifications for saving Gabriel’s life.

 

“I was right, wasn’t I?” He insisted. “He did have a plan, and new information we couldn’t have got without him. And it doesn’t matter now. It was my choice to take, and it paid off. I was right about his loyalties, Dean. He really is trying to help us. I can feel it.” And he could. Maybe he could never be more than allies with Gabriel, he thought to himself, maybe there was too much history there to overlook. But whatever might have been between them in the past, Gabriel was on their side now.

 

Dean was quiet for a long time. Sam watched the road lights flash past, their glow soaking up the dashboard before plunging the car into darkness. “Are you sure?” Dean finally asked. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Jesus, I’m worried. Because I want to trust you, Sammy, I want to believe that he’s on our side, but…”

 

Sam knew what he meant. Any piece of good news these days seemed like a trap, too good to be true. “I’m sure, Dean.”

 

Dean looked at him and Sam looked back, trying to convey with his eyes as they always did, _I promise, this is alright, I know what I’m doing, I won’t let you down this time._

 

Dean nodded, his eyes flicking back to the road. “Alright.” He said quietly, almost inaudible over the rumble of the engine. “I’ll follow your lead, Sam.”

 

Sam did smile then, letting his eyes slip closed again. Hope flickered tentatively in his chest. They had a new ally, a plan. And maybe, just maybe, Dean might have put his trust in him again.

 

...

 

As soon as Sam fell asleep, he knew that he’d made a mistake. This time, he hadn’t been sucked into Gabriel’s dreams. He was back in his own, and he knew because this was unmistakably one of his nightmares, one of the recurring ones.

 

He was was back at the mystery spot. He was restless, trapped in the funhouse maze, unable to find the exit. The walls flashed past him in a swirling vortex of black and green. His breath started coming faster as he ran and ran, his feet thumping hard against the floorboards, the panic rising in his chest as he realised that he was trapped, there was no way out.

 

“Dean! Dean, where are you? Are you in here? Dean!”

 

He rounded in the corner and stumbled to a stop when he saw what was in front of him. His hand shakily reached out to clutch the wall. No, it couldn’t be. Not now, not after all this!

 

“No, Dean!”

 

Dean was lying on his side, his back to Sam, deathly still. Sam knelt down, lowering himself slowly next to the body. He reached out one trembling hand, grasping a stiff, cold shoulder, dreading it but unable to stop himself from rolling the body over.

 

Sam’s breath caught in his chest when he saw Dean’s face. This wasn't one of the deaths that Dean had died in the Mystery Spot, this was from another day, another nightmare. The jagged wounds of hell hounds were ripped across his chest and face, great long gashes, the blood still drying on his clothing. Sam felt his chest tighten, tears threatening to form. No, not this, not again!

 

Dean’s eyes snapped open, clouded and sightless.

 

Sam flinched, his hands whipping away as though he’d been burned, lurching back up to his feet. He backed away, trembling as Dean's eyes followed him accusingly. “Dean?” His voice came out shaky and terrified. His brother didn't speak, but he didn't need to for Sam to hear what he was saying.

 

 _This is your fault,_ his eyes said, loud and clear. _I wouldn't have sold my soul and died if it hadn't been for you. I wouldn't have gone to hell. If you weren't such an UNNATURAL FREAK!_

 

A sob escaped Sam's mouth. He backpedalled faster, as fast as he could until he turned a corner out of sight, and then he turned and ran, half blind as he bolted through the rooms, the walls flashing green and black and green as he ran past them, desperate to escape, oh god there had to be an exit somewhere-

 

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Where do you think you're going?”

 

Sam skidded to a stop again, his heart pounding to escape his ribcage.

 

He was in the room where he had summoned the trickster. Bobby’s body was on the floor, his neck turned at an unnatural angle. A thin trickle of blood ran across the floorboards, over the chalk circle, soaking into the pages of the books. And in the corner, out of the darkness, the trickster himself appeared out of the gloom.

 

“You didn't think you could get away that easily, did you?” The trickster’s mouth twisted into a cruel cheshire cat smile, throwing the useless stake from one hand to another. “You'll never leave, not really. There'll always be a part of you here.”

 

Sam tried to back away, feeling behind himself but the door was gone. The trickster advanced, gesturing at the delapidated room around them, smirk growing cold and bitter. “After all, it is your fault. You never learnt this lesson. Lucifer free? All on you. I even tried to teach you, I tried to show you before it was too late, but did you listen? Nooooo. And now, I'm gonna have to watch my family rip each other and the world apart, all over again. And it's all your fault!”

 

“Sam?”

 

The voice was sharp, clear as a bell over the ringing in his ears. A hand dropped onto his shoulder. Sam nearly yelled in shock, and he flinched away as he whipped around to face the new threat. In front of him, his hand still hanging in the air, there was... Gabriel? Wait. How?

 

Sam looked between them, eyes darting from one Gabriel to the other. The trickster’s head cocked, vicious smile sliding into confusion.

 

“This is what you dream about?” The new Gabriel asked incredulously. He was looking around the room as if he didn’t recognise it. “Where the hell are we? Is that _me_?”

 

Sam opened his mouth, forcing the words out past his numb lips. “M-mystery spot.”

 

Gabriel’s eyes widened as he turned to look around the room again, then filled with recognicion and guilt. “Ah. Right. My bad.” He reached out hesitantly, as though he was going to touch Sam, but seemed to think better of it when he flinched.

 

The first Gabriel suddenly spoke up, like it was tired of being ignored, grimacing theatrically. “Eew, I wouldn’t touch him if I were you. You don’t know where that’s been.” Sam cringed in shame. The trickster was right, he wasn’t worth touching.

 

The new Gabriel shifted his attention from Sam, scowling at his clone. “Woah, woah there. Who's this clown? Hey, asshole!”

 

The first Gabriel ignored him, focusing in on Sam’s flinch of self disgust. “Yeah, that’s right, you stained little piece of shit. You can’t be redeemed, and you know it, don’t you? You’re not worthy to be possessed by me, you’re barely worthy to be a meatsuit to the devil! That’s all you’re good for. All you cause is chaos and destruction. Nobody wants to touch you, nobody wants to get their boots dirty with-”

 

A loud snap echoed, and Sam flinched violently. But when he looked up, the first Gabriel was just- gone. No smoke, no blood, just vanished. Sam was still staring at the spot he had just been when the Gabriel beside him spoke up again. “Sorry about the snapping, but you and me need to have a discussion about your self-image, bucko. And what you think of me! Because that,” he indicated where the hallucination had been, “isn't healthy.”

 

Sam puffed out a breath, trying to swallow back the hot tears that he could stiff feel threatening at the corners of his eyes. “He was right, though.”

 

“What!?” Gabriel’s voice was pure incredulity.

 

“I do cause nothing but destruction. Every choice I make, it’s wrong.” Sam explained hurriedly. “I’ve gotten so many people killed-” The lump rose hot in his throat. “I almost got _you_ killed. Your brothers are fighting again, and we forced you to get involved. It's all my fault.”

 

Gabriel unexpectedly grabbed Sam's face between his hands, making him look into those burning golden eyes. “Hey! This one is not on you. My idiot brothers decided to fight, and my Dad decided to up and abandon us with nothing but his moronic plans, but you had nothing to do with it, you hear?”

 

Sam still wasn’t convinced, but he was surprised by Gabriel’s attempt at defending him from himself. Gabriel's eyes softened. “And what about your decision to save me, huh? Was that a good decision? You don’t think you made a mistake there, do you?” Sam shook his head reluctantly. “Good. Glad to hear you won’t be serving me an eviction notice, I’d have to find my real vessel line then, if any of them are still alive, and knowing my luck and seeing the rest of my siblings they’d probably have a boring suit fetish just like the rest of them.” Gabriel gave a mock shiver and Sam laughed wetly, wiping his face on his sleeve.

 

Gabriel waited for him to pull himself together a little before continuing. “As for forcing me to get involved, the choice was mine. Sure, you helped me out and I decided to throw in my lot with you and your idiot brother. I'm with you now, ‘til the end of the line. You hear me, Sam?” Gabriel shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the sincerity. “And while we’re spilling our guts, let’s clear something else up. I’m honoured you’re letting me possess you. Your soul is one of the brightest I’ve ever seen. It’s _me_ who isn’t worthy of possessing _you_.”

 

Sam felt a little overwhelmed. His mouth opened and closed. How was he meant to respond to that? His automatic response was to laugh with disbelief, to deny it, but Gabriel’s words seemed to ring with truth. And he shouldn’t want those kind words, he shouldn’t need them, but he desperately wanted them to be true, so much so that he felt tears edging into the corners of his eyes again. God, when had he become this emotional? He wasn’t usually as bad at containing himself as this. It must have been the dream.

 

Gabriel’s expression gentled in understanding, as though he knew what was going on in Sam’s head. “Do you want me to wake you up?”

 

Sam shook his head. “No, I’ll never get back to sleep.”

 

Gabriel glanced around at their gloomy surroundings with distaste. “Well we can’t stay here, this whole place is just depressing. Let’s get out of here. I’m taking you on vacation for once. Dad only knows you Winchesters need one.”

 

Sam blinked, and they were somewhere else, without even a jolt. He looked around, mouth falling open in amazement. Great stone pillars soared up above their heads, getting lost in the gloomy reaches of the ceiling high above. Light, dyed every colour of the rainbow by the stained glass windows towering over them, fell in gleaming planks down onto the wooden pews.

 

Sam turned in a circle, his shoes tapping against the stone floor. “Where are we?” He asked, hushed.

 

“A cathedral,” Gabriel answered.

 

Sam turned to look at him. Gabriel was gazing around as well, a small, private smile on his face.

 

Sam had never really had the chance to observe the archangel closely before while he was in his other vessel. It suited him well, he thought, matched him in a way that Sam’s body didn’t for all that he was a viable vessel. He was dressed in a way that Sam had never seen in life, the jacket and jeans traded for a simple white shirt and a pair of slacks. Seeing him face to face was strange as well- it was odd trying to match the ever-shifting waves of his emotions that Sam was rapidly becoming familiar with to his expressions. There was something... different about seeing someone in the flesh. Or whatever passed for it in dreams.

 

 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Gabriel turned to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. “For what?”

 

“You know. For taking me out of there.”

 

Gabriel huffed, the kind of grumble that was hiding embarrassment. “I couldn't leave you in there, could I? I had to take you someplace safe. Especially not since it's my fault that you're having those nightmares anyway,” he muttered.

 

Sam looked around again, eager to direct the conversation away from the mystery spot. “Where are we exactly?”

 

Gabriel perked up again. “Well, this place doesn't technically exist. I sort of scraped it together out of all the bits of cathedrals I've visited. I always did like them. Call me a stereotype, but there’s something about religious spaces, you know? They’re always so… calm. Daddy dearest might have liked being worshipped, but you humans really made it your own. Some of the architecture, just… wow!” He cut himself off and turned back to Sam, like he was a little embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “Do you like it?”

 

Gabriel must have made this for himself, Sam realised with surprise- a place inside his mind where he could be alone. And he had let Sam into it.

 

“I… I do,” he responded hesitantly. His voice resonated around the space, echoing faintly back at them from the pillars before being swallowed by the sheer magnitude of the place. “It’s… easier to talk here. Thanks, for bringing me along I mean.” It was easier to think, to not feel smothered by the vastness of Gabriel’s presence. They might still be both trapped together in Sam’s head, but at least like this they weren’t pressed so close together that he felt like it was hard to breathe. Already, he was more relaxed than he’d been since the hotel.

 

Gabriel grinned at him, obviously quietly pleased, and spun around, dropping himself onto a pew and swinging his feet up on the back of another in a way that Sam thought was probably blasphemous. Sam sat opposite him in the aisle, perching awkwardly on the slightly too-short seat. “Hey, do you think you could put me in here again? The next time we have to sleep?” Maybe he didn’t particularly like the idea of being trapped in a construct inside his mind, but this was definitely preferable to the nightmares. And besides, Gabriel wasn’t trapping him in here. He looked up at the lofty ceiling, the vast calm of the open space. This felt more like a refuge.

 

Gabriel tilted his head, eyes sharp behind his easy smirk. “No problemo. I can hop in here too, if you’d like. It’s boring out there, anyway.” He glanced up at Sam abruptly. “Or not. If you don’t want me here. It’s your choice.”

 

Sam blinked. “Uh, of course. You can come in. I don’t mind.” He was surprised to find that he really meant it. He… actually found himself enjoying Gabriel’s company when he wasn’t being a douche. Besides, this was Gabriel’s construct- he wasn’t gonna kick him out of it.

 

They settled into a semi-comfortable silence. Sam was busy just looking around the place, from the fossils preserved in the polished marble floor to the intricate spires past the altar where the choir would have sat. He had the feeling that he could have been in here for a week and not become bored.

 

“I’m sorry, by the way.” Sam nearly jumped when Gabriel spoke again. When Sam turned to look at him, he was staring into the distance, subdues, but his fingers were tapping an agitated pattern against the wooden pew. His voice was low, muted. “I just wanted to stop you before it was too late. I tried to teach you how to let the grief go, but I went about it all wrong. I never meant for it to turn into… that. And then I’d almost forgotten what I put you through.” He turned to face Sam, serious for once, his eyes ancient and sad. “You don’t have to forgive me for Mystery Spot. I don’t _deserve_ your forgiveness for what I did. But I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

 

Sam was frozen in his seat. He didn't respond for a long time. And the longer the silence went on, the more Gabriel slumped, like he was sinking into himself. But Sam didn’t notice. His thoughts were spinning.

 

He’d thought so much about what he would say to Gabriel, to _the trickster_ through those long six months. He had gone over what he’d yell when he finally got to confront him and before he rammed the stake into his chest, over and over, until he practically had a speech scripted in his head.

 

He had never ended up saying any of it when he finally found him, of course- it had taken what little was left of his self-control not to break down on the spot. But even after they had discovered that he wasn’t the trickster he had claimed to be, Sam had never even once imagined that Gabriel might actually apologise to him, that he’d unbend his angelic ego enough to own up to what he’d done. The most he’d hoped for, before TV land when he’d been trying to get him on side, was that they would both push back the anger and bury the resentment until it was mostly forgotten, like he and Dean did whenever they fought. Bringing it up was painful, like lancing an infected wound.

 

He looked at Gabriel, hunched miserably on his pew, one hand rubbing over his eyes. Maybe, he considered thoughtfully, this was the problem with him and Dean. Maybe this was the reason they never healed. Maybe never brining it up again was why they were always hurting each other. Acknowledging the hurt might not heal the wounds, but maybe it could start the process. Sam already felt better, like Gabriel saying those words had removed a splinter that had been stuck in his foot for far too long.

 

Gabriel, however, obviously took his silence as rejection. He stood with a sigh, looking at Sam sadly before glancing away. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.” He raised his hand to snap.

 

“Wait.” Sam reached out and caught his wrist in a tight grip. Gabriel stared at him, wary, but his fingers slowly relaxed. Sam swallowed, releasing him. “I’m not saying what you did was right. And I don’t think I can forgive you for it, not yet. But…” he hesitated. “I was kind of an idiot. About trying to resurrect Dean.”

 

Gabriel’s tension started to drain away. “Well, you know what they say about hindsight, kiddo. Can’t blame you for not knowing what I never told you, and I picked the worst, most destructive and roundabout way to clue you in.” Then he grinned. “But yeah. You were a moron.”

 

Sam huffed a laugh, and something between them relaxed where Sam hadn't even realised there was tension. He let himself sprawl back, hooking one arm over the back of the seat with a relieved sigh. “You saw all this coming, didn’t you?”

 

Gabriel nodded with a grin, swirling one finger in front of his face.“Archangel- precognition is part of the package. I saw how it would go. I saw a lot of other ways it could have gone, too, but to be honest? None of them were all that great. It’s the apocalypse. It’s always gonna suck. And I never saw you coming.” He cocked his head at Sam, golden eyes seeming even more vivid than they had in reality. “You were always an anomaly. A wild card. The others I can predict, but you, you’re fascinating.”

 

There was something about the way Gabriel said it that made it sound like he was giving him a compliment. Sam turned to hide any blush that might have been staining his cheeks. Gabriel didn’t need to know how much any complements affected him these days.

 

Luckily, Gabriel seemed eager to change the conversation to something less heavy too. He leant forwards, something of his old mischief flickering in his grin, but friendlier now than it had ever been before. “Hey, do you wanna hear a story? I could tell you how I nearly got Thor married to a giant, that was a riot. The myth missed out all the good bits, too!”

 

Sam nodded, smiling cautiously. He watched with fascination as Gabriel began a long, embellished story, his words coming alive with his gesticulating hands. It was as though, with Gabriel’s apology, the air had finally cleared. Sam thought back to his earlier thoughts that they might never be able to be friends. He would happily eat those words if Gabriel kept making him laugh like this. He was a born performer; his impressions of Thor and the giants were hilarious, their exaggerated mannerisms, the way he threw his whole body into it. He even acted out some of the most entertaining parts. They were both laughing hysterically by the time Gabriel got to the punchline, bent over the backs of the pews.

 

“And then,” Gabriel gasped, out of breath, “he leaned his ugly face in for a kiss. Thor ripped off the veil, bellowed like a dad-damn rutting stag, and started beating him to death with the nearest thing on the table. Unfortunately, that happened to be a leg of ham. The looks on their faces!” Sam wheezed, clutching his belly. “‘Course, the myth left out the ham part, not a very dignified way to go-”

 

Gabriel abruptly cut himself off, his head snapping up to look at something Sam couldn’t see. Sam sat up, looking around and quickly wiping away the tears of laughter, but the cathedral was still deserted.

 

Obviously though, Gabriel had detected something he couldn’t. He sighed like he was disappointed, flashing Sam a rueful smile. “Sorry Sammy, storytime’s over. We’re gonna have to finish this later.”

 

Sure enough, there was a low rumble starting to intrude on the peaceful scene, the sound of Dean’s voice warbling in an out like a badly tuned radio. “I’m waking up,” Sam realised.

 

“Got it in one! Catch ya on the flip side!”

 

As Gabriel spoke, the cathedral was already blurring, pillars dissolving into smoke. But just before it vanished Sam could swear he saw Gabriel waver, and there was something else where he was standing, something enormous wreathed with flame, terrible and beautiful and full of burning light-

 

He opened his eyes.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but there was some fairly significant reworking to be done on this one!

The tension in their little band had eased since they set off again from Bobby’s. 

 

Gabriel knew that a lot of it was to do with his apology to Sam. Apologising wasn’t something he’d made much of a habit of doing in his life, preferring to avoid whoever he’d offended for the next few millennia, but what he’d done to Sam had been eating at him. It had taken more of his courage than he thought it would to confess to him. He’d half expected the words to be thrown back in his face, but the cautious friendliness in Sam’s thoughts towards him, growing ever stronger over the next few days, had made all his anxiety worth it. 

 

What surprised him was Dean’s change of heart. He might not have been as openly friendly as Sam was now, but he wasn’t as blatantly hostile to his presence as he had been either. Gabriel didn’t know what had happened (he certainly hadn’t done any apologising), but he had a sneaking suspicion that Sam had something to do with it, even if the barriers he’d erected between them prevented him from knowing without asking. It helped that he and Sam had become quickly adept at swapping places over the last few days. With a bit of practice, they could swap out at a moment’s notice, with minimal stumbling and disorientation. Seeing his brother alive and kicking at regular intervals seemed to improve Dean’s mood vastly. 

 

They had been following Pestilence’s omens with the help of Bobby’s guidance, but without much luck. Every time they got close, the signs would disappear and show up again but in another place. To the humans, it might have seemed like the normal erratic appearance of pathogens, but Gabriel knew better. One of the horseman’s entourage must have been able to teleport. And with his wings out of commission, the chances of them knowing where Pestilence was going to appear in time to actually get there before he vamoosed again was low. Just their luck. 

 

But the result of that was a lot of hours jamming Sam’s too-large body into the impala, burning enormous amounts of gas romping around the country. Dean had even overcome his aversion to letting Sam drive his precious car on the condition that Gabriel wasn’t allowed in control. Five days later, they were no closer to catching Pestilence, and they were all exhausted, irritated and sleep deprived. All of them were quietly relieved when Dean finally gave up and suggested getting a motel room for the night.

 

Gabriel marched in as soon as the door was open, lobbing their bag down on the bed and practically throwing himself into one of the chairs. He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face, ignoring the amused looks Dean was giving him as he dumped his own bag before making for the bathroom. “Dibs on the first shower!”

 

Sam rolled his eyes at both of them and stretched himself as much as he could in the back of his mind.  _ How can you sit down after we drove all that way? _

 

**_Are you kidding me!? You want to go running now!?_ **

 

Sam laughed at his disbelief. Gabriel grinned tiredly. Only Sam’s company had prevented the journey from being unbearable. The kid was endlessly fascinated by everything Gabriel had seen and experienced, and a dreamscape was the perfect way of sharing it. Gabriel could tell him about his time travelling through ancient Greece while they were sitting in the Library of Alexandria. He could take them back to Pompeii in its heyday. He could perfectly reconstruct the glory of ancient Mayan cities, Calakmul and Tikal. They had spent one afternoon talking animatedly, sharing stories and relaxing next to a broad lake while iguanodon and protoceratops grazed around them, the enormous beasts unbothered by their presence. 

 

Gabriel found himself enjoying their little trips, and not just for Sam’s sake. Watching Sam’s wonder as he stroked hesitant fingers over the dinosaurs’ leathery hides made him realise how long it had been since he was last truly amazed by his Father’s creation. How long it had been since anything had truly surprised him. And how much he had missed it. 

 

Seeing it through Sam’s eyes brought it back to life. The walls he had put up might have stopped their thoughts from leaking into one another, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to block out Sam’s emotions. He could feel Sam’s delight slowly starting to wear away the calcified shell of cynicism and weariness that Gabriel had accumulated over the years, washing it off until he could really  _ feel  _ the world again, bright and vibrant and new like it had been in the beginning. 

 

He liked to be able to see Sam’s face, to match those bright smiles to the glow of his soul. Lately, that brightness inspired a matching glow in Gabriel’s own grace, which he was carefully ignoring. The timing could not have been worse; they were in the middle of the apocalypse, not to mention sharing the same damn body. 

 

He and Sam had only just managed to become friends, he told himself sternly. No need to make things awkward. Quick flings to ease his vessel’s pesky physical urges were one thing. Wanting to wrap his brother’s vessel in his grace and never let go was quite another. 

 

But no matter how many stern lectures he gave himself, he couldn’t quite stop himself from prancing around like a besotted fledgling in their dreams and trying to impress him with ever more complex locations. Which was ridiculous! He was a fully grown archangel! He ought to have better self control than this!

 

His wings ruffled irritably with his thoughts. Gabriel shuffled them to settle the feathers, then let them spread a little, craning back in his seat to get a better look at them.

 

_ How do they feel?  _ Sam asked, oblivious to Gabriel’s internal monologue. He was gratified to feel Sam’s awe as the incorporeal golden feathers fanned out across the room behind them.

 

**_Better. Shouldn't be too long before I’m airborne,_ ** Gabriel flexed, rolling Sam's shoulders, only feeling a warning tug when he tried to push the wings to their full extension. He couldn’t help preening a little in front of Sam. The feathers had all grown back perfectly, at least. He had been a little worried about that. He folded them back in satisfaction, letting the chair drop back onto all four legs. He reached forwards without thinking, going to grab the TV remote, then yelped in pain as his fingertips unexpectedly rammed into the plastic hard enough to take the skin off his first knuckles. He whipped his hand back, curning it protectively against his chest. These fucking too-long arms!!

 

_ You’re still not great at the fine motor control, _ Sam observed.

 

Gabriel scowled, half irritation and half embarassment, wincing as he picked off a loose flap of skin.  **_Thanks, Captain Obvious, what a brilliant analysis!_ **

 

Sam, as usual,  ignored his sarcasm. _ We could try training, see if that helps.  _ He obviously felt Gabriel’s surprise at the question and gave a mental shrug.  _ What? I don’t want to get captured by demons because you couldn’t pick a lock or something.  _

 

At this point, Gabriel just wanted to stop stubbing his fingers and toes on ever dad-damned piece of furniture,  **_Sure, training. Why not?_ ** Gabriel flexed Sam’s fingers, rolled his shoulders.  **_So, any ideas on how we’re gonna do this?_ **

 

_ Hmm.  _ Sam thought about it.  _ What if we tried with you controlling one hand, and me controlling the other? That way you could see and feel what I’m doing without having to swap over constantly. _

 

**_I’m not even sure I can partially possess people like that, but what the hell. Let’s give it a shot!_ **

 

Fifteen minutes later, they both watched as Gabriel moved his hand out of his control. Sam moved the other, flicking their eyes between them as they moved independently. Gabriel huffed in surprise, watching his fingers flex into a fist and relax again.  **_Well, wadda you know? I had no idea this was even possible._ **

 

“This is so weird,” Sam muttered in agreement as Gabriel grabbed his arm with the hand he was controlling. The dual feedback was enough to make even Gabriel pull away. 

 

**_So, what next?_ **

 

Sam stopped, his opalescent soul coiling and swirling as he thought about it. Then he grinned, a playful note entering his thoughts.  _ How about a thumb war? _

 

**_Really? Thumb wars? That’s your idea?_ **

 

_ Why not? It builds dexterity, hand strength, all that kind of stuff. We might as well have some fun with it. Dean used to beat me at it all the time when we were kids. You know how to play, right? _

 

**_Of course,_ ** Gabriel scoffed, lacing their fingers together. Sam fixed his eyes on their interconnected hands so they could both see what they were doing. 

 

Sam grinned. _ Ready? Aaaaaand… go! _

 

Gabriel lunged his thumb forwards, grunting with frustration when he missed.  **_I’m gonna crush you, I hope you know that._ **

 

_ You can try, _ Sam taunted, grinning wider, sticking his tongue between his teeth as he tried to tempt Gabriel to stretch out his thumb so he could make a move.  _ Is that all you’ve got? I could thumb wrestle better when I was ten! _ Gabriel concentrated furiously. Just a little more, a little further, then- NO!

 

“Ha!” Sam shouted out loud as he pinned Gabriel’s thumb against his hand. Gabriel groaned in defeat.

 

**_Not fair! You’re all lopsided! I demand a rematch, Winchester. This time I get the right hand!_ **

 

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He glanced over at the table and did a double take, making a noise of confusion. “What the hell are you two doing?” 

 

Gabriel waved his hand at him gleefully. “Thumb wars!”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows, blinked, then obviously decided he was better off not knowing. “Whatever.” He turned to rifle through his duffel.

 

Gabriel and Sam managed to have three rematches by the time Dean was fully dressed. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw him throw himself full-body onto the bed before turning the pokey motel TV to a Dr Sexy marathon. 

 

Gabriel slumped backwards in defeat. He had managed to win one of their matches, but Sam was the obvious victor.  **_You win this time, Winchester! I’ll beat you next chance I get._ **

 

Sam settled back into the back of his mind with a distinctly smug air about him.  _ Whatever makes you feel better, Gabe _ , he singsonged.

 

Gabriel chuckled, then looked down at their hands, resting on the table, fingers still laced together. A pang of strange longing went through him. He scowled at himself, looking away, but his good mood from just a second before was lost. Why couldn’t he just let this go?

 

He was shaken out of his contemplation by the buzzing of Dean’s phone from across the room. Dean grimaced at it, obviously debated ignoring it, then heaved himself back up with a heavy groan and walked over to pick it up. “Hey Bobby.”

 

“Dean.” Bobby’s voice emerged from the phone, tinny on the other end of the line. The phone may have been pressed to Dean’s ear, but with Gabriel’s grace-aided hearing, they could both hear what was being said as easily as if it was pressed against his own. “We’ve had a tip-off, but it’s a bit complicated. Your brother and that archangel in the room?”

 

Inside, Sam perked up, leaning closer to listen in. Gabriel made room for him. Dean glanced at them suspiciously, pressing the phone tighter against his ear. “Yeah, why?” 

 

“Best they don’t hear this.” 

 

_ What the hell?  _ Sam murmured inside, cramming up closer to Gabriel as though that might make him hear better. Not an invitation to hug, Gabriel reminded himself sternly.

 

Dean glanced up at them again. Gabriel pretended to be very busy picking lint off Sam’s shirt. “Bobby, you know I get myself checked regularly!” Dean groaned just a little too loudly into the speaker. “No, I don’t need to book an appointment! Come on, why you gotta embarrass me like that?” He grimaced towards Sam, rolled his eyes theatrically and stepped back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

 

Gabriel grinned. Walls weren’t a match for his eyes and ears. He could still hear Dean loud and clear through the thin plasterboard, muttering into the speaker. “Alright, I’m out. Go on. Who’s this information from?”

 

“It’s Crowley again. Says he doesn’t know where pestilence is, but he knows someone who does. A demon called The Handler, one of Lucifer’s lieutenants apparently, and the one in charge of Pestilence’s movements. A big shot, high up in the ranks, not like the grunts we’ve been questioning so far. And we should leave Sam behind to come after him.”

 

Dean growled quietly. “Crowley? You know we can’t trust that slimy bastard, Bobby, why are you-”

 

“Apparently the demons are after him too, and he doesn’t have another motive.”

 

“Yeah, apart from if it’s a damn  _ trap _ , Bobby. He gave us the freakin’ colt, remember? He got Jo and Ellen killed! And leaving Sam out? Why? Like there isn’t anything suspicious with that. Why the hell would he want to help us? He’s a demon! He wants hell to win!”

 

There were the sounds of a scuffle on the other end of the line, and then an English voice snarled down the phone, “Listen here, you little ingrate, they burned down my house! They  _ ate  _ my tailor! I’ve spent the last two months living under a rock like a bloody salamander! Every demon on hell and earth's got his eyes out for me, and yet, here I am, standing in Bobby Singer’s  _ fucking _ living room, listening to you whine like the  _ kicked mongrel that you are _ !” Gabriel watched through the wall as Dean lifted the phone away from his ear, grimacing at the tirade. “And bring the moose along for all I care, why not screw this whole thing to hell before we’ve even started? If you don’t want my advice, then you can take it and shove it up your lily-white-” 

 

There was another clatter, a sound like something breaking and a muffled “Give that back you idjit!” Bobby came back on the line, sounding ruffled. “Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway, apparently Sam and this demon have history or something. He seems like he’s telling the truth, boy. For one thing, I ain’t never seen him lookin’ as shoddy as this before.”

 

“Fuck you, Singer!” Came a muffled shout. Gabriel suppressed a snort of laughter.

 

_ History?  _ Sam wondered. Gabriel could sense him flicking through the memories of all the demons they’d dealt with, but there were too many at this point which could have been holding grudges. 

 

In the bathroom, Dean wiped one hand over his mouth as he thought, still cradling the phone against his ear. “A fresh lead on Pestilence? With someone Sam’s got history with?” He muttered. “Well, we’ve made a lot of enemies the last couple years. And he sounds like he’s telling the truth. If he’s lying, he’s good, gotta give him that. And it’s not like we have any other leads.” He paused. “I don’t like it, especially the bit about leaving Sam out, but he sounds like he might actually have something. It’s not like we have much of a choice.” He was silent for a minute, all of them considering their options. “Alright, let’s do it. But tell Crowley if he betrays us I’ll feed him to his own hellhounds, guts first.”

 

Bobby grumbled something and the line cut off. Dean stood up from the toilet, opening the door and looking out at them. Gabriel looked up dutifully, as though he hadn’t been listening to every word they said. 

 

“So. Just had a tip-off. It doesn’t sound too promising, probably just another dead end. Not worth all of us going out after it. Me and Bobby are going after the lead, you two stay here. Rest up, do more research, whatever. I’ll be heading out to meet him in ten.”

 

Gabriel took a second to think about how to handle this. Half of him wanted to keep up the charade, to let Dean go off and walk into what was almost definitely a trap without putting up any sort of resistance. But the bigger, angrier half of him, the half that was closest to where Sam’s mind was simmering in irritation, couldn’t let Dean out of here without giving him a piece of his mind about lying to his teammates. How dare they? They should have known better than to try and leave him in the dark. Especially after spending all this time ripping open all of Gabriel’s secrets and demanding he get involved and team up. 

 

“Oh really?” Gabriel hummed, tapping the tips of Sam’s fingers against the table, deceptively calm. “And your mystery informant said that what, Sam was supposed to stay home? And you agreed to that?”

 

_ Which is not happening, _ Sam put in.

 

**_Yeah, that’s what I thought._ **

 

Dean looked startled for a moment, then seemed to realise that Gabriel and Sam must have heard everything. He nodded once, visibly bracing himself, setting his jaw mulishly. “Yeah. ”

 

Gabriel rolled Sam’s eyes. “I know it’s Crowley, so don’t even bother with the lying. If it was any other demon I’d tell you to burn them out and run in the opposite direction, but I’ve had dealings with that slippery eel before. He generally tells the truth when it’s his bacon on the line. That part about Sam not being there, though? Not a good sign.”

 

Dean spread his hands, as though he hadn’t been prepared to ditch them five minutes ago. “Look, I don’t know why Crowley doesn’t want Sam there, okay? What if there’s a legitimate reason? Sam, you know any demons holding a grudge?” 

 

Inside, Sam scoffed. _ Nobody specific, but why the hell couldn’t he just ask me this instead of trying to ditch me? _

 

Gabriel shook his head at Dean. “He says no.”

 

Dean nodded. “So it could be anyone. Either way, you’re not coming, ‘cos either Crowley’s right and it is someone with a personal grudge, or Crowley’s lying and it’s a trap for you because they know you’ll come as soon as someone tells you not to.”

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. That was actually a half-decent point, as much as he hated Dean trying to deceive them about it. Dean might have been an overprotective bastard, but he wasn’t stupid; it would be the ideal way to get Sam to walk into a trap alone, without backup, and desperately trying to prove himself enough to get careless and be an easy target.

 

Sam was still mad though, anger spreading waves of heat across Gabriel’s grace.  _ He always does this!  _ He fumed.  _ He always thinks I can’t look out for myself, it’s like I’m five years old still! He doesn’t trust me to tell him whether I’ve got history with anyone, he doesn’t trust me to help out! It doesn’t matter if the trap’s set for me, what if Dean and Bobby get caught in it? But he never thinks about that! _

 

Gabriel hesitated for a fraction of a second, weighing the situation. He could fight to get them included in this mystery mission, which would no doubt involve an argument and then Dean breathing down their neck for the entire time, whether it turned out to be a trap or not. Or...

 

He shrugged, turning back to the table and opening up Sam’s laptop. “Sure, whatever. We could do with the rest and recuperation anyway. If you and Bobby want to go and get yourselves shanked in a demon trap, that’s not my lookout.”

 

_ What!? No way! Gabriel what the hell!! _

 

**_Calm your tits, Samster._ ** Gabriel suppressed a smirk.  **_We promised we’d let them go alone. We never promised we wouldn’t follow. It could still be a trap for you, but I doubt they’ve designed it with an archangel in mind. So either we get there and Crowley was telling the truth, we help them capture this Handler and get the information out of him, or he was lying and we get to bust Bobby and your brother out of a demon trap and hold it over them the next time they try and sideline you. What do you say?_ **

 

Sam’s soul lit up in mischievous anticipation, and Gabriel had to smother a chuckle when he started vibrating in place with excitement. Dean narrowed his eyes at them suspiciously. “You’ll stay? Really? Just like that?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “You know me, I hate getting involved unless I have to. Why risk getting caught out in the open when I could stay safe behind the wards?” 

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “So it’s because you’re lazy.”

 

Gabriel painted a loose smirk onto his face, lining it with just a hint of exhaustion and ruefulness, and kicked his feet up on the table. “Got it in one.”

 

“And Sam?”

 

Gabriel reached up from where he was sitting, patting Dean on the shoulder as he passed. “Let me handle Samarillo. I’ll make sure we stay put.” 

 

Dean nodded in acceptance. “You do that.”

 

Sam’s anger spiked at the extra betrayal, his soul rippling indignantly.  _ He’s not even gonna ask me what I think!? He’s just gonna go out there without me! What the hell, Dean!? _

 

**_Well, more fool him._ **

 

Sam simmered back into annoyance. Dean swung his duffel onto his shoulder, grabbing his jacket and the impala’s keys from by the door. “We should be back by tomorrow night, no later. I’ll phone you when we get there, okay Sammy?” Dean’s face changed to stern suspicion as he addressed Gabriel. “And you, don’t get into trouble, got it? Or no more trouble than you have to.”

 

Gabriel shot him a salute as he walked out. They waited until they heard the impala pull away. 

 

Then Gabriel swung his feet down onto the floor with a thunk, stretching Sam’s arms. “And he didn’t even notice me sticking that tracker on him. Your brother’s not the most observant, Sammykins.”

 

_ I think it’s because you’re in my body. It’s throwing him, he thinks he knows my tells, but when it’s you behind the wheel...  _

 

“Well, it’s playing into our hands at the minute, so let’s hope he doesn’t catch on. What do we need?”

 

_ Get my knife. And my gun. _ Sam’s words were still short with irritation.

 

Gabriel swiped them off the table, striding quickly out the door that Dean had just left. He hesitated, looking around the empty parking lot, then cursed when he remembered his lack of flight. Sam nudged at him.

 

_ Let me to the front, I can hotwire a car. Can you still tell where he is? _

 

**_Yeah, I got him. Get out here and commit another crime before that tracker gets out of range._ **

 

A few seconds of awkward mental fumbling later, Sam was staggering forwards across the lot towards an empty car, his legs still trembling from the transfer. Gabriel felt a smile cross his face when he realised the owner had left the window cracked.

 

Five minutes later they peeled out onto the interstate, following the gleaming dot on the edge of Gabriel’s perception. **_That’s some skill you got there, kid._ ** He couldn’t stop his admiration seeping into his tone.

 

_ A lifetime of credit card scams will do that to you,  _ Sam replied ruefully.

 

**_Hey, you don’t charge for your services. Think of it as a demon-removal tax. Payable by whichever idiot leaves their car windows rolled down where anyone could come along and hotwire it._ ** Sam snorted, grinning.

 

...

 

They drove for hours, always careful to keep far enough from Dean that he couldn’t see their car and realise he was being followed. It was getting dark by the time the bright flicker of Gabriel’s beacon stopped moving.

 

Sam turned off the engine and the lights, letting the car coast to a stop outside the building that Dean was inside. They looked up, eyes flicking between the dark windows. The place had an unwelcoming, dilapidated feel to it. Gabriel could smell the damp and mildew even from inside the car, and over the top of that, the sulphurous stink of demons. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

 

He tried not to let it show.  **_Well, isn’t this lovely! A real demon holiday destination._ **

 

Sam was still scanning the windows, eyes watching for movement.  _ Are they in there? _

 

Gabriel took over and glanced through the walls, letting just a hint of angelic sight filter his vision; several human souls, Dean’s and Bobby’s. Nothing unexpected there. And ah yes, there it was, a dark, oily, smoky mass stirring restlessly where it was confined in the devil’s trap. Huh. So it hadn’t been a trap by Crowley after all. That was a surprise.  **_There,_ ** he pointed it out to Sam.

 

Sam’s disgust at the sight was powerful.  _ What the hell is that thing? _

 

**_That, my young padawan, is what demons look like when they’re naked. Dangly bits and all._ **

 

_ Gross, Gabriel. _

 

He grinned, watching as the burning sun of Dean’s soul started to move away.  **_Want to find out what big bro’s up to?_ **

 

_ Do it. _

 

Gabriel stepped out of the car, casting a simple glamour as they walked inside to hide them from anyone watching. Sam’s soul emerged from the back of his mind, pressing closer in the comradeship of co-conspirators, which, huh. That was entirely too pleasant. The warmth of Sam’s soul was like a hot water bottle on his still-bruised grace, and the temptation to reach out was nearly overwhelming. Gabriel had to forcefully pull his attention back to the plan at hand.

 

With a sliver of grace, he flicked the door mechanism, letting them inside. The building was just as dank as it had appeared from the outside, damp creeping up the walls, exposed pipes and wires dangling from the ceilings. Gabriel cast his grace out, searching. Dean’s soul was still there, some way off, but he seemed to have moved out of the room where the demon was contained, still prodding at the confines of its trap. There wasn’t a living soul between them. 

 

Gabriel let the glamour around them relax. To anyone else it would have looked like they stepped out of thin air. Dean wasn’t in the building any longer, moving slowly away, but the hunter was wiley. Gabriel wouldn’t have put it past him to set traps. He slunk along the corridor, wincing as the floorboards creaked under Sam’s large feet. Sam tsked disapprovingly.

 

**_What? It’s not my fault your body is out of proportion!_ **

 

_ I am not! You’re just doing it wrong! Here, let me- _

 

There was a brief scuffle which ended with Sam victoriously taking control of his body. Gabriel slid back with a grumble, but watched with quiet amazement as Sam managed to pick his gigantic vessel down the corridor in almost complete silence.

 

They got closer, their ears straining, but there were no giveaways about what was in front of them, just the drip of water and the demon’s harsh breathing. They rounded the corner. The room to the room where the demon was was right there.

 

Ready? Gabriel asked. 

 

Sam nodded, taking a deep breath. He reached out, pushing open the door, and stepped inside.

 

For a second Sam just stood and stared at the body sitting tied to the chair. The demon stared back, surprised. It took a second for Sam to see past the oily black sheen of demonic true form overlaying the vessel’s face.

 

Then Gabriel felt the shockwave as Sam recognised him. 

 

“B...Brady!?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuuun!!


	8. Chapter 8

_ “ B...Brady!?” _

 

The demon looked surprised as well for a moment, but it recovered fast. It smirked, chuckling, its eyes flicking black. “Sammy Sammy! Isn’t this a wonderful surprise? But I’m afraid Brady hasn’t been Brady for a long, long time. Not since, ooh, the middle of our Sophomore year. Good times, am I right?”

 

“You.. you...” 

 

Sam’s soul was spinning, sparking, burning against Gabriel’s grace. **_Sam,_ ** he asked urgently,  **_who is this asshat? Sam!_ ** But Sam wasn’t responding, too caught up in his own whirlwind of disbelief and horror.

 

The demon was still goading him. “Now, is that any way to greet an old friend? After all I did for you? I was the best wingman on campus, don’t you remember?”

 

Sam shook his head in refusal. “No. No! You introduced me to Jess!” 

 

“Ding ding ding! He’s got it, ladies and gentlemen!” The demon’s smirk grew. “You should have seen her face that night, Sammy. She was so surprised to see me when she opened the door. She was expecting you. She still had the oven gloves on, I could smell the cookies.” Sam was frozen, almost entranced. Gabriel could feel the grief bubbling up through his soul like a brewing eruption. “She was even more surprised when I pinned her to the ceiling and slit her belly open like a pig!” 

 

Something inside Sam snapped. The grief turned into rage.

 

“I’ll kill you!” He bellowed. “I’ll kill-”

 

**_Sam! No!_ ** Gabriel leapt forwards, doing what he’d promised Sam he’d never do again. He smothered him with his grace, pushing him back until he was contained at the back of his own mind, bringing Sam’s body to a shuddering stop with the tip of Ruby’s knife two inches from the demon’s eye.  **_Sam! Listen to me, he’s provoking you. Look at him, Sam, really look. He wants you to kill him! Why would he want that unless he has what we need to find Pestilence?_ ** Sam didn’t reply, his soul spinning even faster, coiling in on itself and then bubbling out in rage, his thoughts one endless scream.  **_Sam, listen! We need this information! You know what, Crowley was right. I’m taking you out of here before you do something we all regret._ **

 

He pulled the knife away with effort. The demon’s expression of satisfaction faded into confusion as he turned and made for the door. “Where you going, Sam? I killed your girlfriend, remember?” Gabriel blocked him out. 

 

Gabriel was no stranger to anger. He had felt it for his father, for abandoning heaven to the whims of his older brothers. He’d been angry at Lucifer for rebelling, and at Michael for casting him down. He’d been angry with the Winchesters for a long time. But he'd never seen anger like what was boiling in Sam’s soul. It roiled, it screamed, demanding vengeance. Sam struggled against him, trying to take over, and Gabriel only just managed to keep him contained, even though his grace was ten times stronger than the last time that Sam had won against him.  _ Let me out! You let me out right now! _

 

**_Sam, you’re not thinking straight-_ **

 

_ I DON’T CARE! _ Sam bellowed, ramming against the restraining grace. Gabriel winced as he walked quickly down the hall, trying to get them as far away from the demon as possible.  _ He ruined my life! I'm going to kill him! _

 

Brady laughed behind them, savage and victorious. “Where were you that night, Sam? She begged for you! She wailed your name while I stuck her to the ceiling!” Gabriel walked faster. 

 

Memories flashed across Sam’s thoughts like a movie, reel after reel of Jess and Brady stained dark by the horror of the demon’s revelation. Sam’s soul was a tornado. He screamed again, beating at Gabriel, desperate to be let out. Gabriel winced at the strength of the blows buffeting his grace. Was it possible for Sam to actually take over again? Even with him nearly at full strength? 

 

He nearly cursed when he felt Dean’s soul flare and start moving rapidly towards them. This was the last thing he needed. He looked around desperately, scanning the building for an alternative route, but it was no use. He was approaching too fast.

 

“Yeah, Bobby, I swear we got him tied down tight but something just tripped the wards, what if-” Dean cut off, phone falling away from his ear, screeching to a halt at the end of the corridor as he caught sight of Gabriel striding towards him.

 

“Sam!? What the hell! What are you doing here? Gabe, I thought I told you to stay back at the motel!”

 

Gabriel ignored him. “Get out of my way,” he growled, bustling past him as he put as much room between Sam and the demon as he could. Sam’s assault wasn’t letting up, and he wasn’t sure how long he could contain him. Already he could feel his fingers twitching out of his control.

 

“Gabriel! Wait up!”

 

Gabriel stopped, closing his eyes, breathing hard. He focused inwards, throwing up shield upon shield, locking Sam into a maze of traps and dead-ends inside his own head. Forcing his bright soul down like that made him feel physically ill, but what alternatives did he have? 

 

When he opened his eyes again, Dean was standing right in front of him, looking ready to throw down. He groaned. “For the love of Dad, what now?”

 

“You mind explaining what the hell is going on? I have a demon tied up in there, and you just show up, and now you’re acting crazy!”

 

“It’s not me! It’s Sam!” Gabriel snarled. “And he’s got more than enough reason to be mad, because that demon’s the reason his fiance’s dead!”

 

There was a ringing silence.

 

“Oh,” Dean said lamely.

 

“Yeah, ‘oh’. No wonder Crowley didn’t want him within a hundred miles. Sam took one look at him, and,” Gabriel shuddered, his control over their vessel momentarily slipping as Sam battered his way through another layer of confinement. “And I’m having to strangle him down to stop him from going back in there and ripping its throat out with his bare hands!”

 

“Shit!” Dean swore, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the corridor by Sam’s sleeve. “See, this is why Crowley said not to come! Get him outta here!”

 

“I don’t think I can last that-” As he spoke, the final shield shattered. Gabriel braced himself for the onslaught. Would Sam push him out of his vessel, he wondered with dread, or just take him over and trap him like Gabriel had just done? The gentle, calm Sam he’d been getting to know for the past week wouldn’t have, he was sure, but Gabriel could barely see his bright soul under the thunderheads of black rage. 

 

But Sam’s blows weren’t nearly as hard as they had been the first time. They certainly weren’t hard enough to actually hurt him. In fact, Gabriel found to his surprise that he barely had to fight to stay in the driver’s seat. Maybe Sam had  worn himself out, Gabriel reasoned. But no, because he’d pummelled right through that last shield with no hesitation, and his soul was still glowing as bright as ever, roiling like molten lava against his grace. Which meant...

 

“He’s letting me,” Gabriel realised out loud, his shock letting the words slip out. “He’s letting me hold him down.”

 

Dean stopped, turning to fix him with a glare. “What the hell do you mean ‘letting you’?” He demanded.

 

“Do you honestly think that your brother couldn’t kick me out if he really wanted to? No. Sam’s more than capable of giving me the boot if he really puts his mind to it. But he knows, deep down, that we need that demon’s information to get to Pestilence. Even if most of Sam can’t let him get away.” Gabriel could feel the wonder, the admiration seeping into his tone. Even under all that anger, the rational part of Sam had taken control by the only way he could; by letting someone else take control away from him. Sam had given  _ him  _ control. The trust that had been placed in him was overwhelming. Trust that Gabriel wouldn’t take advantage of him, trust that Gabriel would be able to keep him contained. Gabriel felt it, both an unimaginable gratitude and a terrifying responsibility. 

 

And, suddenly, Gabriel knew what he needed to do. For Sam. “I’m going back in. Don’t follow me.” He turned on his heel, intending to stride back towards the room where the demon was, only for a hand to catch his arm again and hold him there. He turned with a snarl, fighting every instinct to stop himself from smiting Dean on the spot.

 

“I can’t let you go back in there!”

 

“Stay out of it, Dean. I know what I’m doing. Get out of our way.”

 

Dean’s voice rose. “I can’t let you jeopardise our one chance at finding famine and ending the apocalypse! I’m not having your stupid decisions cost us the world!”

 

They glared at each other, breathing hard. “It won’t cost you,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, “But Sam needs this. He needs closure, one way or another.”

 

“And then what, huh?”Dean gestured jerkily. “One dead demon, where does that get us? What good does it do?” 

 

Gabriel knew what this was really about. He could see it boiling in Dean’s soul. Yellow eyes, a childhood haunted by the hunt for a monster, Sam dropping to his knees at Cold Oak, the pillar of smoke rising into the sky as John Winchester’s body burnt. Revenge hadn’t been good to the Winchesters. But this wasn’t about Dean

 

“For one thing, I’ll be sure to ask it where Pestilence is gonna pop up next before I go in for the kill. And for another,” Gabriel yanked Sam’s arm out of Dean’s grasp, “revenge might not heal Sam, but it might be a start. It’s worth a shot. He was manipulated his whole life, Dean, in a way that even you never were. Heaven, hell, all out to get him, twisting him up until he can’t even trust himself any more, and you haven’t helped. Time will have to heal most of the damage, but this is a wound on his soul that’s been festering for too long, and the cause of it is sitting in that room tied to a chair. It’s time to sterilise it.”

 

Dean stared at him, eyes flicking to the door at the end of the corridor. His soul flashed and fluttered with indecision. “You’re serious? You think this will… help him? And us?”

 

Gabriel made sure to look Dean in the eyes, so that he see for himself how serious he was. “I think it will.” And, okay, so killing that piece of scum might make Gabriel feel better as well. Maybe he was living a little vicariously through Sam. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t have more than one motivation for the decisions he made. Either way, it was worth a shot- see if a bit of retribution might excise the anger in both of their hearts. “Don’t you worry. I'll make sure you get whatever information you need out of him. Trust me, Dean Winchester. And, while you’re at it, maybe put a little more trust in your brother as well. He’s earned it.”

 

Dean gave him a long look, then nodded slowly. “Don’t let me down. Hell, don’t let Sam down.”

 

Gabriel turned. “I’m not planning on it, trust me. Enough people have already.”

 

...

 

Brady looked up as Gabriel walked in, opening his mouth to no doubt deliver another volley of taunts. Then he stopped. He cocked his head to one side, inquiring. “Well, that’s different. What are you? You’re not Sam, I know that much. Because that little display of self-control back there was definitely not the Sammy I knew.”

 

Gabriel smiled back, a little too wide, a little too sharp. “What you don’t know could fill a book, Handler. And I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking the questions.”

 

But Brady’s smile grew, too cold and cruel for the handsome face it had stolen. “Oh, this is rich! Don’t tell me the littlest Winchester’s already got an angel riding shotgun? The boss will  _ not  _ be happy when he gets his hands on you, trust me. Only Lucifer gets to make Sam Winchester his bitc-” Gabriel snapped his fingers and cut the demon off mid word.

 

“Aaand that’s enough from you.”

 

Gabriel casually strolled across the room, walking behind the demon to trail one finger over the torture equipment set up on the table, all chrome and silver and gleaming. He let one nail drag across the blades. Tink, tink, tink. The demon shifted slightly in his bindings. 

 

“You know, I could tell you about how I would go about this. About how I’d start with the pliers and your fingernails, one at a time, very slowly. Or maybe more poetic? Maybe this time it would be you pinned to the ceiling, doused in holy oil with the temperature set to medium rare. You’d live for a good long time, I’d make sure of that, long enough to feel the meat cooking on your bones.” He walked slowly around until he was in front of the demon again, looming over it. “Or maybe I’d go the fast route if I was in a hurry, dig my claws into your feeble little skull and rip the information out right before it parts company with your body.” Gabriel let himself smile fully, knowing that his true self was glimmering golden in Sam’s changeable irises, savouring the fear hidden deep in the demon’s eyes. 

 

Then he turned away. “But then again, I’m not the ringmaster of this little show, am I? Not tonight.”

 

Inside, Gabriel stepped back. Sam lurched forwards, surprised to find the resistance to his takeover suddenly gone, and staggered a little where he stood before regaining his balance. He looked around the room in confusion, his eyes catching on the demon.

 

_...Gabriel? _

 

**_So, Sammy… what do you think we should do with this scum that ruined your chance at a second life?_ **

 

Sam hesitated, shocked.  _ You're not going to, I dunno, tell me that revenge isn't the answer? _

 

Gabriel chuckled darkly.  **_Oh no. Revenge only isn't the answer if you have to destroy your own life or cause collateral to get it. But I know all about getting a little payback. Catharsis. Closure. Did you forget what I am, kiddo? Trickster and archangel of justice here. So no. I'm not gonna stop you. Not when this walking shitstain has earned your vengeance a thousandfold._ ** He waited a second to let that sink in. Sam’s soul was unnaturally still against his grace.  **_As long as we crack him open for information before we kill him, you’re golden. Can you do that, Sam? Can you be patient?_ **

 

_ Yeah. _

 

If Gabriel had been in control, he would have smiled.  **_Good. Now. What do you want to do?_ **

 

Sam slowly turned and looked back at the thing wearing his old friend’s body. He saw the fear building in its wide eyes, because it knew who it was facing now. When Sam smiled this time, it was cold as ice. He walked towards the table, and closed his fingers around the handle of the biggest knife.

 

_. _ o0o _. _

 

Dean sat on a rickety old chair outside the room, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped anxiously between them. He winced when another winding scream echoed, fading into a gurgled whimper. He and Bobby had allotted themselves the entire day to… extract the information from it, but it wasn’t going to take that long. Half an hour Sam had been in there, only half an hour and already he’d heard the demon begging for forgiveness between howls. He shuddered a little.

 

The screaming reached fever pitch. The bare bulbs above him buzzed. He looked up in time to see all of them flare as a wash of power went down the corridor. The scream abruptly cut off.

 

“What the…?” He muttered to himself. 

 

His head snapped around when the door squealed open. The hulking shape of his brother come out of the room. Standing quickly, Dean stepped forwards, then pulled up short. He did a double take when he realised that the dark stain down the front of Sam’s shirt wasn’t water, eyeing them warily. For once, he couldn't quite tell who was in charge, Sam or Gabriel. 

 

“Well?”

 

Whoever was in charge of his brother’s body looked up at him, his eyes dark in the shadows of his brows. It was unmistakably Gabriel’s smirk that twisted Sam’s mouth upwards, but there wasn’t much humour in it. “Oh, don’t you worry, Deano. We got the information out of him. We know just where Pestilence is gonna be next.” 

 

Dean nodded, brushing carefully past him to look into the room. He stopped in the doorway and felt his eyes bug as he took in the mess. The floor, the walls. Even the  _ ceiling _ . Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting until he had to back out.

 

He turned to where Gabriel was washing the blood off Sam's forearms in a stained porcelain sink. He watched as the water spilled out of the old tap, turning pink as it rushed down the drain. “What you did to him, it was…” Dean swallowed, “inventive.”

 

Gabriel looked confused for a second, but then he looked grimly amused. “Oh no, that wasn't me. That was all Sam. Kid has some serious anger issues up in here. And a graphic imagination.” He tapped Sam's head. “Plus, no one does revenge like the Winchesters. You should know that.”

 

Dean gaped as Gabriel shook the water off his hands. He straightened, pausing, a conversation flickering behind his eyes. “We’re going out for a bit, don’t follow us.”

 

Dean watched them go. He had no intention of following. That couldn't be Sam who had done those things, could it? His gentle, kind little brother. And hadn’t that last rush of supernatural energy been grace? But in the back of his mind he could remember that cold expression on his brother's face as he shot that boy who had stabbed him in Cold Oak, the intense desperation the morning that they had finally made it out of the Mystery Spot. That fleeting glimpse of the Boy King who could have been. 

 

He shuddered, reaching for his hip flask.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is revenge a good idea? Is it gonna be good for them? Who knows, probably not, but as recent episodes show, they're gonna do it anyway!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's been commenting; I love you all and I will name my children after you.
> 
> Note; the vast majority of this thing was plotted out before Gabriel's canon return, so the majority of the lore got completely jossed lol. I will be doing things with the new content, because there is some gorgeous meta and character development in those episodes, but not in this one, sorry!

 

Sam strode out of the dilapidated building, half running. His hands were shaking, and the nausea was rising up his throat, but still his feet pounded over the crumbling tarmac. As though if he ran fast enough he could get away from what he’d done. He went past the car that he’d stolen to get here, hopped a fence. A building had been demolished on the other side, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble and rusted beams resting on a large expanse of bare concrete, the rest of it slowly being taken over by the scrub that was creeping in from the edges. 

 

Half way across it Sam slowed, his momentum giving way to exhaustion. The sun was rising in the east, casting long spindly shadows from the weeds rising from the pavement. He knew that if he looked behind himself that his shadow would be even longer, trailing back the way he had come. He closed his eyes against the newborn light, breathing deeply, trying to stop his gut from twisting in on itself.

 

**_Sam_ ** _.  _

 

Sam opened his eyes, staring into the scraps of blushing cloud scattered across the horizon.  _ Don’t, Gabe. _

 

Gabriel sighed, shifting his bulk awkwardly. For a desperate second Sam thought his grace might be about to reach out towards him, but a moment later it was gone. He smothered his disappointment.  **_What are you over-thinking about over there, kiddo? I can feel the manly angst dripping out of you from here._ **

 

_ What… What I did back there… _

 

**_That? That’s what you’re worried about? He was a demon, Sam, don’t tell me you didn’t see his shrivelled excuse for a soul. He’s been alive for a very long time, and he’s hurt more people than just you. He deserved everything you did to him._ **

 

Sam shook his head.  _ What? No, he deserved it alright. I’m not feeling guilty about that.  _

 

**_Than what…?_ **

 

_ I used your grace! _ Sam burst out.  _ When I was torturing him, I used your grace! The things I did with it… Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it. _

 

Gabriel didn’t reply, but his silence said everything he wouldn’t. Sam stared down at his fingers miserably. Why did he ruin everything? He hadn’t even meant to, hadn’t even realised what he’d done until it had already happened. It had been totally instinctual. And it had felt so  _ right!  _ Nothing like his demon blood powers. He had felt the grace flowing through his veins, and without thinking, he had taken hold of the reigns, wielding that power as it rushed through him, deep and wild as the ocean, unstoppable as a wildfire. He’d felt it burning in his eyes as he had reached out, slammed the demon into the wall. He remembered laughing, wild and hysterical, as he reached in and broke its mind, cracked it down the middle as effortlessly as cracking open a nut, and pulled out what he needed. And then, one last flex, a snap of his fingers, and the demon had been ripped apart, its empty vessel with it. 

 

It was nothing like the power he’d got from Ruby. There was no oily, metallic sulphurous aftertaste, no killing to get it. And yet there was still that same leftover electric buzz of power on his tongue. It was wild, and deep, and addictive.

 

It was dangerous. And he was terrified of it. Of what he could do with it.

 

He must have been projecting again, because Gabriel seemed to guess his surface thoughts.  **_The power? That's what you're worried about? Look, kiddo, this ain’t like the demon blood. Me lending you my powers isn’t going to get you addicted to grace! The only reason you can even access them is because I’m in here, so it’s not like you could get them any other way anyway._ **

 

_ Not helping.  _ Sam said tersely. He kicked a rock, watching it skitter away across the concrete.  _ And you didn’t lend them to me, I took them. I stole them.  _ His soul cringed away from the thought, but he couldn’t escape the shame. Something as holy as an archangel’s power, and he’d taken it without asking, stained it for his own revenge, and for what? A momentary high of dark satisfaction? He wasn’t worthy of Gabriel’s reassurances. Not about this, and not about anything else either.  _ Me having powers isn’t a good thing, I’ve proven that. _

 

Gabriel seemed to see through him, right to the heart of the problem he was worrying at.  **_There’s a reason you did those things under the influence of the demon blood, Sam, and it wasn’t all you._ **

 

_ But it was though!  _ Sam burst out.  _ It was me! Don’t try and deny it, Gabriel, it was me doing those things! _

 

**_You weren’t in your right mind._ ** Sam started to object but Gabriel rode over him.  **_And don’t say you should never have taken the blood in the first place, because_ ** **circumstances matter.** **_All of heaven and hell gunning for you, what choices did you really have? You weren’t aware of it back then, but I saw it coming. They had you in a net, the both of you, and all they had to do was tighten the strings and you were trapped. Sure, you fucked up big time, but they knew the exact buttons to push to get you to do their bidding. And I sat aside and did nothing,_ ** he thought bitterly. Sam tried to squirm away from his words and deny them, but Gabriel pinned him down.  **_Listen to me! It might have been you who was holding the knife that night when you stabbed Lilith, Sam, but it’s not just you who has to shoulder the blame alone. The fault’s on all of us._ **

 

_ So it’s not because I’m evil? _ Came the tiny voice before Sam could even think to stop it.

 

Gabriel sighed.  **_Power doesn’t make you evil, Sam. Evil in and of itself doesn’t even exist. Even the best people can do terrible, harmful things because they were mislead, or because they thought it was necessary. Bad people can do good things because it’s convenient or to convince themselves that their cause is righteous. The people I judge, Sam? They hurt others because they want to. Because they think it’s fun, because it gets them off. You’re nothing like them, Sam Winchester. I won’t let you think that you deserve to be lumped in with them for even a second!_ ** Gabriel’s voice was vehement. Sam blinked in surprise. Gabriel kept going, his thoughts getting fiercer as his grace swirled in agitation.  **_Do you even know what you look like to me, Sam? You look like the sun. It would take a hell of a lot more than a dribble of demon blood to do permanent damage to your soul. I’ve seen what you think of yourself. You’re not a monster, and your history might have given you some knocks, but you’re so... determined. Resilient. You don’t let anything stop you, not even your own nature. I was shocked the first time I saw you, all that bravery._ ** Gabriel’s tone suddenly sounded self conscious.  **_So, what I’m trying to say is, you’re pretty awesome. Not as awesome as me, of course, but I’m tough competition._ **

 

Sam reeled a little. Part of him wanted to deny the words. Because he  _ did  _ have responsibility for getting them all into this mess, whether Gabriel wanted to see it that way or not. And he doubted his soul could ever be classed as ‘awesome’ after what he’d done. 

 

But maybe Gabe had a point about one thing. Maybe he didn’t have to shoulder the entire responsibility for the apocalypse. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt anyone to admit that there had been other factors at play than just his own poor judgement. 

 

_ Thanks, Gabe.  _ He said quietly.

 

**_No need to thank me, kiddo. It’s just the truth._ **

 

Gabriel’s grace calmed, settling warm against his mind. Sam huffed, shaking his head, looking down even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything to hide his smile. Believing in himself, he wasn’t sure if he could do that. His distrust of his own instincts ran too deep. But Gabriel’s belief that he was good was undeniable; he could feel it flowing through his grace, strong and certain as a river. There was no possible way for him to fake it. Gabriel  _ believed  _ in him. Gabriel wasn’t disappointed in him for accidentally using his grace, Gabriel didn’t expect more from him. There was just unshakeable trust, and for half a second, Sam felt tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. It might not have meant much to Gabriel, but to him, it was everything to know that he was believed in again. 

 

**_Sam..._ ** Gabriel must have heard that, because his grace reached forwards, looming in closer than they had ever been before. Sam gasped as the warmth enveloped him, every inch as though he was submersed in a hot bath. He froze up in surprise. There was something incredibly intimate about it, every one of Gabriel’s thoughts and emotions rushing past him in a thousand whispered voices caressing him gently. 

 

Then Gabriel jumped as though he’d been shocked, drawing back, leaving Sam cold. He instantly missed it.

 

**_Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t think I was..._ ** But Gabriel cut off when Sam reached back, stretching his soul as far as it would go. He could only reach a tiny section of Gabriel’s true form, it was like trying to hug a mountain. He felt Gabriel freeze up in surprise, but before he could draw away again, Sam blurted out  _ please... _

 

Gabriel’s rigid exterior cracked. His shields broke down, his grace spilling out, curling around Sam almost desperately. It covered his soul, filling the cracks and glowing so bright and warm but never hot enough to hurt. Sam melted into it, the stress of the last few hours falling away, even if it was only temporary. Gabriel’s grace murmured, wrapping him in comfort, a thousand hugs all rolled into one pressing against his touch-starved soul. It was like they were both glowing from the inside out. God, if only he could stay like this forever.

 

...

 

They didn’t know how long they’d been standing there, eyes half-closed and focus turned inwards. Sam had never known that they could be close like this. 

 

It was a mark of how distracted they’d both been that they didn’t notice the hint of power at the edge of Gabriel’s grace until it started to grow closer. Sam squinted from within the haze of warmth. There was something out there, right on the edge of the awareness of Gabriel’s grace. Moving slowly towards them.

 

_ What’s that? _

 

Gabriel hummed tiredly.  **_Hmm? What?_ **

 

_ That, there. _ Sam lazily pointed out the anomaly. 

 

Gabriel peered closer. Sam felt a jolt run through him. Instantly, Gabriel’s grace was alert, scramling to pull itself back together. **_NO! Fuck!_** Their eyes snapped open in alarm. **_Shit shit shit!_** **_We have to get out of here, now!_**

 

As though it had felt Gabriel’s panic, the coldness suddenly turned, frigid attention fixing onto them.

 

_ Wait, what is that? We can’t leave, what about Dean? _

 

**_He doesn’t want Dean, Sam! He wants you! That’s Lucifer!_ **

 

_ Lucifer!? _ That was another archangel!? Suddenly, Sam understood Gabriel’s panic. They had to get out of here! He turned, heart already pounding with adrenaline, ready to start running.

 

The cold vanished for half a second, and for a split moment of wild hope Sam thought that he might have given up. That he might have decided that they weren’t worth the bother.

 

And then it reappeared. Right next to them.

 

Sam didn’t dare turn around, frozen in place. His eyes fixed themselves on the short puffs of smoky breath forming in the suddenly frigid air. The pale warmth of the rising sun was gone, the temperature dropping into sub-zero. Sam could feel it behind him, like a great cold star burning at his back.

 

“Hello, little brother. I see you’ve got something of mine.”

 

That was enough to unfreeze Gabriel from where he’s been petrified. He pushed forwards, swinging Sam’s body around to scowl at his brother. “He’s not your possession, asshat!”

 

“I beg to differ, little bro,” Lucifer smiled thinly but there was no warmth in it. The sores next to his eyes were even larger than the last time they had seen him at Elysian Fields, skin peeling as his vessel deteriorated. “Father made him to house me. How does that not make him mine? He just has to realise that.” 

 

Lucifer started walking. Gabriel’s eyes followed him as he prowled around them. It was the first time that Sam had really seen Lucifer, the  _ real _ Lucifer, the ruined thing lurking behind the cold eyes of the vessel. Great tattered wings shifted behind him as he walked, bones exposed but the feathers still clinging to the dessicated flesh, frozen there by the chill of his ravaged grace. A thousand eldritch eyes watched them, unblinking. Sam shivered under their combined gaze. The veil of calm reasoning that Lucifer had always tried to use to convince Sam to be compliant was wearing thin, revealing the hunger and desperation underneath. Or maybe it was that Sam could see his grace now, could see what he truly was. See the way that Lucifer reached out for him like grasping claws.

 

“You took my vessel.” Lucifer’s eyes were hard, shards of grace showing through the icy blue. “My true vessel. I would have let you away with a lot, little brother, but this is one betrayal I can't let go. Give him to me and I’ll let you live, but if you don’t,” Lucifer’s eyes turned cold and blank. “I’ll rip you out of him and tear you to shreds.”

 

“Doesn’t Sam get a say in this?” Gabriel played for time. Sam could feel him desperately trying to find a way out. Fighting was out of the question. The great scar running through his grace seemed especially tender, a violent reminder of their last encounter, of Lucifer’s true nature. They’d never outrun the other archangel, not with his wings intact. The warded impala was too far. God, if only they could fly-

 

Lucifer’s voice was still calm, masking the storm growing underneath. “Sam’s options don’t matter to you, brother. As far as I can see,  _ you  _ have only two options; agree to return my vessel to me, and join my side. Or die. You already tried option number three, killing me, so I know that you won't. No, you  _ can't _ . I know you, Gabriel. You're soft, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. You always were the baby of the family.”

 

Gabriel laughed humorlessly, their fists clenching. “I know. You’re right; I’m too weak for that. Too sentimental. I can’t kill you. But Sam could.” Lucifer paused, like he hadn’t even considered that. Gabriel kept going. “You know he would. He'd do it. Imagine yourself in his shoes; you’d have no problem putting yourself down. And if he’s just a mirror of you, like it says in daddy’s sadistic little plan, shouldn’t the same apply to him?”

 

Lucifer looked vaguely surprised. “You’ve been keeping him awake?”

 

Gabriel let Sam’s lip curl. He shuffled back another step, putting more distance between himself and his brother. “Unlike some people, I treat my vessels with some respect. What were you planning on doing? Trapping at the back of his mind? Burning him out?”

 

Lucifer looked insulted. “Of course not! I would have protected him!”

 

“Sure. By keeping him locked down so far he couldn’t see it when you destroyed his world!” Gabriel gestured around at their surroundings.

 

Lucifer shrugged. “If I had to.”

 

Gabriel took another step back, shaking his head. His grief was so strong that Sam could feel it as though it was his own. “I don’t know you anymore. Don’t you remember heaven? Our family?”

 

Lucifer’s lip curled, his eyes cold and empty of the recognition that Gabriel yearned for, the memories that meant so much to him. “You know what? No. I don’t. I don’t remember this ‘family’ you keep going on about. Just Dad and his little dictatorship. Everything was fine until I started to show a thread of independent thought, and he decided to uproot it, before any of his other clockwork dolls started acting out.” Lucifer stepped forwards, holding out his hand, and Sam felt Gabriel’s desire to flinch back. “I’m surprised you don’t join me, Gabriel. Think about it. I rebelled. You left. We’re not that different. Join me, brother. Return my vessel to me. I’ll give you one more chance.”

 

Gabriel clenched his trembling hand around his blade. “Never.” He couldn’t stop the way Sam’s voice cracked.

 

Lucifer faltered, his confidence slipping just a little. “Are you… afraid of me?” He honestly seemed surprised.

 

Gabriel gave a disbelieving laugh, high and tight and horrible. Lucifer took another step forwards, just as his grace reached out for Gabriel, and Gabriel did flinch this time, a violent whole-body jerk as memories of pain flooded through him. Sam could feel his grace swirling, twisting itself into desperate panicked knots at the touch of the cold grace, and he jumped forwards to face Lucifer, shielding Gabriel behind the meagre light of his soul. 

 

“You stay where you are!”

 

Lucifer cocked his head.  **_Sam…_ ** Gabriel whispered.

 

“Sam, there you are! I believe you've been avoiding me. It hurt my feelings.” Lucifer pouted.

 

“And you handled it so maturely. I don’t know why I’m surprised though, I should have figured that you’d react like an entitled boy who got turned down at prom.” Sam was shaking, adrenaline from Gabriel’s terror coursing through his veins, but he didn’t let any of it leak into his voice.

 

Lucifer stepped forwards, and Gabriel’s grace flinched against the back of his mind again. Sam raised his hand. “Don't.” Gabriel had been right. He would have no issues taking Lucifer down if he got close enough, but Sam had seen Gabriel’s memories- there was no way he could take an archangel on in single combat.

 

Lucifer stopped. “Sam-”

 

“No! You don't come any closer!” Sam felt a surge of grace run through him, willing to do his bidding, and this time, instead of controlling it, he welcomed it. Something coalesced, cool and solid in his palm. He brought the blade up without even thinking about it, raising it defensively in front of them. At the same time, power welled up from inside, different from the grace. It was the green-gold threads that Sam had seen woven through Gabriel before, less powerful than his grace but still very much a part of him. That must have been the pagan part of him, Sam realised. To his surprise the pagan power leapt forward as well, like a dog eagre to do its master’s bidding, forming a shimmering translucent shield in the air between him and Lucifer. 

 

They both stopped for a second, just looking at the gleaming wall seperating them. Lucifer hesitantly stepped up to the shield and pressed a hand against it, his expression turning puzzled when it didn’t break. He rapped on it, confusion quickly turning to frustration. He pounded a fist against it. “Come on, Sam, let me through! He's my brother!”

 

Sam felt Gabriel almost cower in the back of his mind, squashing his massive bulk down as much as he could in the limited space, trying to bury himself behind Sam as Lucifer slammed a fist against the shield. It was terrible, wrong. Archangels shouldn’t cower. “You tried to kill him!” He yelled at Lucifer. “Of course he's afraid of you! You have no right to call him brother after what you tried to do to him!”

 

“I wouldn't have… I didn't want to…” Lucifer seemed to lose his words. He shook his head, frowning, momentarily stopping his assault on the barrier. 

 

Sam thought it was the first time that he'd seen the archangel so unsure. Before, Lucifer had seemed so sure of his path, assured that he was doing the right thing. So confident that Sam would give in to him. Confident that Gabriel would join his side. Not now. He seemed… confused.

 

Then his expression closed over again, and that smug, infuriating surety was back. “He did, of course, side against me. But that's nothing I can't forgive. Once he comes to his senses and joins my side, of course.”

 

Sam laughed incredulously. “ _ You  _ need to forgive  _ him? _ After you stabbed him in the chest?” He shook his head. “Wow. I'm really starting to see why he's so keen to never see any of you again. Why are you even doing all this?”

 

Lucifer’s face darkened. “You know why. My father cast me out. My own brothers cast me out! I will show father that he was wrong, that these humans that he thinks is so precious are nothing. I will obliterate them, and then he will see-”

 

“What about after?” Sam interrupted, subtly edging away, keeping the barrier between them.

 

“What?”

 

“After you've destroyed humanity and the earth. What then?” Sam demanded. “Sure, the fun will last a century, maybe two. But when it's all gone? What will you do?”

 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but then he stopped. A small, confused frown appeared between his eyebrows. Like he’d never even thought of what he might do in the aftermath.

 

“Your father doesn't care, as far as I can gather.” Sam pressed. “He didn't leave because of you fighting- he left because he got bored. So this… this tantrum to get his attention? Stop. You’re never going to impress him. Don't even try, because there's no point. You're just going to destroy everyone else trying.” Sam drew himself up to his full height, righteous anger giving him the courage to get the words out. “You keep telling me that we’re alike, but we’re not. Sure, Ieft my home and my family, but you know why I did it? Because I wanted to be around  _ people _ . Because I wanted to make something more of myself than what my Dad had planned for me. And the only reason I returned was because I wanted to  _ help  _ my family, not destroy them. Which means that I’m more like Gabe than I’ll ever be like you.” He made sure to meet Lucifer’s hardening gaze. “I’ll never say yes.” 

 

Lucifer snarled, his grace shining cold and blue through his eyes with his rage, finally losing control. Frost bloomed on the ground around his feet, his wings snapping out. Sam felt his power gathering in the air and stepped back, raising the Gabriel’s blade even though he knew it wouldn’t stop him. He had to hope the shield would hold long enough for him to get away, quick, they had to go-

 

Lucifer drew back a fist, electricity sparking over his skin, and slammed it forwards into the barrier between them as he beat his wings. With a flash of light and a  _ BANG  _ that echoed off the landscape like discharging lightning, the shield split down the middle. 

 

Sam felt a surge of fear. But that was nothing on Gabriel’s terror. It was strong enough that he shunted Sam out of the driver’s seat, staggering away from Lucifer as he stumbled over Sam’s long legs. Sam could feel the memories flashing through his mind- the knife digging under his ribs, Lucifer’s eyes cold and empty and shattered above him, light glinting off the silver point of a blade. His grace screamed, pressing Sam backwards when he tried to calm him, out of control, no logical thoughts, just panic. 

 

_ Gabriel!  _ Sam shouted. Gabriel was beyond hearing him.

 

And suddenly, like his panic made manifest, Gabriel’s wings erupted from his back. Sam could feel them, the great pull and tug of unfamiliar tendons and unused muscles, the resistance in the air and the weight of themon his shoulders. Up and up they stretched, snapping out from Sam’s back like the great sails of a ship. Unlike the last time they had spread, there was no pain, just the slightest twinge at the very extent of the stretch. His breath caught. He could see them out of the corners of his eyes, feathers gleaming golden in the dawn. They stayed there, quivering, on edge, prepared to take off at any second.

 

Lucifer looked behind him and up, eyes going wide at the sight. He hesitated, and for half a second Sam thought that the sight of Gabriel’s obvious terror had snapped him out of it. Something flickered behind Lucifer’s blue eyes.

 

Then they froze over again. He stepped forwards.

 

Gabriel jumped. His wings swept down. For half a second, they hung in mid-air, feathers spread, hovering over Lucifer, who was looking up at them with something disturbingly like longing, and Sam was afraid that they’d drop back down to earth. But then the wings came swooping down again in one strong, beautifully coordinated beat. Sam felt them shoot up, sideways, somehow  _ through _ . There was an almighty CRACK as they broke through something, and then they were moving, so fast the momentum pressed his lungs against the back of his chest like he was riding a rollercoaster. Gabriel banked, and Sam saw warped impressions of a great familiar curved dome, lit up indigo on its outer edge. Fuck, what was that? Was that the atmosphere!? Were they in space!?

 

Gabriel’s panicked mind was still guiding them, wings beating fast and erratic. Sam caught other impressions as well, things his human mind wasn’t meant to absorb as Gabriel’s true shape began to reform in this strange between-space. Tails trailed out behind them, other eyes slowly started to blink open. It hurt, a warning twang like a stretched muscle inside his brain, and for a second he was worried that Gabriel’s true form might burn him out, but then he remembered that he’d seen him before, glimpses caught in their dreams. Gabriel wouldn’t hurt him. 

 

He trying to ignore the strange sensations. Dean was back there, and Bobby. They were still flying at a breakneck pace. Somehow, he needed to get Gabriel’s attention through his panic before they left the solar system. He poked at him firmly, shouting to be heard over the whirlwind of thoughts.  _ Gabe! Gabriel, we’ve got to go back! _

 

**_No, no, can’t go back, can’t ever go back!_ ** Gabriel muttered feverishly, his many eyes still darting. but his wings slowed, turning his headlong flight into a glide. He didn’t seem to be fully there, Sam realised with concern.

 

_ Let’s go back down, yeah? _ Sam encouraged nervously, stroking gently agaist the side of his grace like he was trying to calm a frightened horse.  _ I think we lost him. Let’s go home. _

 

**_Home,_ ** Gabriel muttered. Then, to Sam’s horror, he folded his wings close to Sam’s back, and dived. Sam screamed. They shot down through the upper atmosphere, down, down, down towards the surface of the earth like an arrow. Gabriel’s head ticked from landmark to landmark as he looked down, a great golden eagle searching for its nest. 

 

Something seemed to click into place, the erratic swirling of his thoughts evening out as his flight pattern smoothed into a glide.  **_Sam?_ ** He asked quietly, uncertainty. 

 

Sam could have sung in relief.  _ Gabe? Are you okay? Are you back with me? _

 

**_Yeah, what…what happened? Why don’t I…?_ **

 

_ Do you not remember?  _ That wasn’t a good sign.

 

**_Not much, it’s all jumbled…_ ** Gabriel thoughts were disturbed and confused, his grace starting to swirl again in distress as it tried to search for the missing memories. But then he gave a start of realisation, eyes going wide as they wobbled in midair. **_We’re flying! My wings!_ **

 

_ Yeah, you did it, you got us out. _ Sam sighed in relief.  _ You saved us from him. Again. Are they okay? _

 

**_I need to land,_ ** Gabriel admitted,  **_I’m not up to long flights yet, I shouldn’t have left the atmosphere._ ** Sure enough, Sam could feel the second-hand ache burning through his upper chest and back. Gabriel looked around properly, his forehead creasing as he glanced over the topography. Wherever they were, to was nighttime. The land below them was cloaked in darkness, but Gabriel’s sight let Sam see the craggy landscape they were gliding over. Moonlight glinted off the river, turning it to a shimmering silver ribbon winding through a deep valley.  **_This place… I know where we are. This is France._ **

 

_ We’re in Europe? _

 

**_Yeah. And there’s no way I can fly back to North America like this. We need to rest. Luckily, I know a pit-stop._ **

 

...

 

They alighted as gently as Gabriel could. The sound of back-flapping filled his ears, stirring up a great cloud of dust, but it still wasn’t enough to absorb all of their momentum. Gabriel tripped, nearly fell until his flailing hands caught hold of something cool and solid. For a minute they stood there, panting, waiting as his heart slowed, his wings still spread and trembling behind them. Slowly, with a wince, Gabriel folded them, tucking the ruffled feathers out of sight. Straightening up, Gabriel opened their eyes.

 

Wherever they were, it was dark, but more than that it was absolutely silent. Not as though the sounds of the outside world were muffled, but as if they simply weren't there. The air was still, and stale. It was cool, but not cold, and was just as devoid of anything as the soundscape was. 

 

_ Gabriel? Where are we? _

 

**_Hold on._ **

 

Gabriel raised Sam’s hands and snapped, summoning a small ball of light at his fingertips. He flicked it and it soared upwards, up and up, glowing brighter and brighter until it illuminated the space they were in.  **_Let there be light,_ ** he commented sarcastically, but Sam wasn't listening. He was too busy looking around, captivated.

 

It was a cave, an enormous cave. Stalactites glistened in the light, stalagmites bubbling up from underneath them, the walls striated and honeycombed with the long-dry calcified remnants of streams. It reminded Sam a little of the cathedral in his dreams, with the great columns and the hushed silence. The rocks were ochre and orange, and the floor was covered in a layer of fine, dust-like sand. 

 

As glorious as the rock formations were though, they had nothing on the walls. Initially Sam thought that the red splotches were some strange rock formation, but then finger and thumb prints began to emerge from the pattern.

 

_ Are they?... _

 

Gabriel didn't answer, simply walking further into the cave. The ball of light followed them, sending long shadows rippling over the walls.

 

As they walked further in, more drawings appeared. Ochre red at first, and then in charcoal black, great herds of wild horses and stags emerged from the gloom, chased by a pride of lions. A mammoth loomed as though emerging from the rocks. A pair of woolly rhinoceros were frozen, locked in combat. Sam gaped, open mouthed as he turned slowly on the spot, taking it all in.

 

_ Gabriel… these are… _

 

**_Cool, aren't they?_ ** Sam could feel Gabriel’s pleasure at his wonder.  **_I watched the guy that drew most of these. Funny man, wasn't much of a people person. More into drawing animals in dark caves._ **

 

Sam glanced down and saw a rock, almost triangular with a flattened top. Balanced on the top was a large skull, the prominent canines still in place. Around the rock on the floor there were more skulls, some almost buried under the silt and calcite crystals. 

 

Gabriel felt Sam's notice shift and turned his attention to them.  **_This wasn't just some hermit’s sketch pad down here. That there's an altar to the Great Bear._ **

 

_ Was he real?  _

 

**_Oh, he was real alright. He was pretty cool guy, too. Him and bison lady,_ ** he flicked their shared eyes over to a column covered in an illustration of a creature with the legs of a woman but a great, shaggy horned head.  **_Her name was Gaia. She was a good laugh once we'd all had enough fermented berries at the midwinter festival. She had a party trick where she would take a dried fish and bring it back to life with a wave of her hand, then stuff it down the back of someone's tunic. Hilarious. Beat the water into wine illusion any day. And she had a surprisingly nice singing voice for someone with a bison's head. Say what you want about palaeolithic gods, but they knew how to throw a party._ **

 

There was unmistakable fondness in the way that Gabriel thought about them. Sam saw flashes of memory like a film reel in the back of his mind, torchlit feasts on long, cold winter nights, warmth and welcome and smiles in the dark.

 

_ Were they the first gods? _

 

**_No. but they were the first I knew well._ **

 

Sam let his eyes drag over the smudged charcoal paintings, and felt a memory stick out among the chaos of Gabriel's thoughts. A cold night, snow on the ground. Breath clouded in front of his face and he was alone. All alone. But then, out of the blizzard, a distant light of a fire. Figures dancing. Being welcomed in, smiling faces and warm furs. 

 

Sam was suddenly uncomfortably aware of exactly how long Gabriel had been on earth. None of their sources for the first angel war had given very vague on the dates, and Castiel had never discussed it in depth. He had thought that it was maybe a thousand years previously. But according to Gabriel's memories, it had been more like tens of thousands. Sam couldn't even comprehend existing for that long. His human mind couldn't manage it. The Norse pantheon couldn't have been the first that Gabriel had called family.

 

_ What happened to them? _

 

Gabriel gave a mental shrug.  **_What happens to most gods eventually. Their believers slowly disappeared and their religions dried up. They faded away to almost nothing, until one day, they were just… gone. Too deeply asleep to feel the world moving on without them._ **

 

_ Will you end up like that? One day?  _

 

**_Oh no, not to me. Most minor gods are made of almost pure belief, with a bit of life-force thrown in. Angels are made of different stuff._ ** Sam couldn't read Gabriel's thoughts. They’d gone deep and still, like a pool of treacherous water that he didn't dare dip into.

 

They stood for a while, staring at the great paintings until eventually Gabriel’s wings twitched behind them. The overworked burning had stopped. Gabriel shook them out.  **_Come on,_ ** he said with one last look at the murals, mental voice uncharacteristically quiet,  **_we should be getting back._ **

 

With a clap of wings, the cave returned to its ancient silence. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

They barely made it back to Bobby’s. 

 

Gabriel materialised above the house, whistling to earth in an uncontrolled spin. He let out a pained yell as the material plane yanked painfully on his wings, their eyes widening as they approached the ground too fast.  _ Look out! _ But there was no time to prevent impact. Gabriel braced.

 

They hit the dirt with a bone-jarring series of  thumps , their momentum throwing them head over heels, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake. They finally skidded to a stop.

 

“Ouch,” Gabriel muttered into the dirt. He didn’t even have the energy to get up. Every inch of his body throbbed, his wings two burning brands of pain on his back. He groaned as a cramp started in the left one. His grace was drained again, he noticed with dismay. He had been planning to fly on to find Dean and Bobby, but now he wasn’t sure if he could make it. He was so tired...

 

_ Don’t worry about it, _ Sam told him. Gabriel could feel his concern, and it sent a soft warmth through him that he hadn’t felt for centuries.  _ They’ll get here eventually. We can let them know where we are. You can tell if they’re safe, right?  _

 

Gabriel stretched his overworked grace out once again towards the tracker he’d placed on Dean, just to make sure. Yes, there were those familiar souls, worried but not hurt. There was no sign that his brother had found them.  **_Yeah, they’re fine._ **

 

_ We should text them, let them know we're alright. _

 

With a grimace, Gabriel peeled himself off the ground, groaning as the gravelburn all along his left side started stinging freshly. He quickly pushed his grace to the surface, wincing as the pebbles and dirt dropped out, the open wounds closing up as smooth fresh skin rolled over them.

 

They limped into the house, shedding their shredded jeans on the way to the bedroom. Gabriel needed to recharge, desperately, and Sam wasn’t much better. The adrenaline of the last few hours was finally catching up with them. He fired off a quick text to Dean as he pushed back the covers. 

 

His head barely had time to hit the pillow before they were asleep. 

 

.o0o.

 

Sam dreamed again. 

 

At first, he thought that he was back at the night that he had run away to Stanford. It felt the same. That feeling of bitter betrayal and loss. He had left his family, everything he had known behind. He could feel the cold tears pouring down his cheeks as he trudged through the night, letting them fall rather than wiping them away. 

 

Only it couldn't be Stanford, could it? It hadn't been snowing that night when he had left, and it was definitely snowing now. 

 

He was cold. The cold was so new. So sharp. Prickling. Such an odd sensation, now that he was in a vessel. He held up his fingers, flexing them as they slowly turned blue in the blizzard, stiffening in the icy wind. Ignoring it, he stumbled forwards. He had barely made it to earth, still injured from trying to break up that last scuffle between his brothers. 

 

He shied away from that final blurred memory of Lucifer, terror threatening to overwhelm him again, making his new heart beat a frantic rhythm against his unfamiliar ribs. His latest failure. His last failure, he swore to himself, pushing the memory down, because he wouldn’t be going back. He could never return.

 

A shudder started in his vessel’s jaw, its teeth starting to chatter. He was still too weak to rely solely on his grace. He knew from his observations of these humans and the worry nagging at him from the mind of his human host that he had to find shelter, and fast.

 

He stumbled through the howling wind for what felt like forever. The freezing pain in his feet intensified, then faded into worrying numbness. He knew that they were soaked, water seeping through the hides that protected his vessel’s body from the elements, but the feeling was vanishing from his skin. The further he staggered, the more worried he got. He panted from the exertion, his breath instantly whipped away by the icy wind. He knew that he was fading.

 

Then, from up ahead, there was a speck of warm, flickering light. He squinted against the storm. Was he imagining things? No! There it was again! He hurried towards it, as fast as his numb feet would carry him.

 

Out of the gloom, a shelter appeared. Snow camouflaged the circular roof, but the strip of hide that passed for a door was flapping open in the wind. He peeked inside, his eyes wide. 

 

In front of him, the dwelling was a broad circle. Fires lit the hut, and around the outside the shifting silhouettes of people gathered, their dancing shadows thrown dark and looming up the walls. Hands beat a steady rhythm on hide drums, creating a hypnotic beat with whoops and chanting. And in the middle of the circle left by the crowd there was a goddess, dancing with a human child.

 

Her body was bare. Bronzed skin and her mane of thick fur caught the light, horns gleaming ebony as the goddess stooped to reach the girl’s hands. Her mouth was open with deep laughter, and the girl shrieked with excitement as she was swung around. 

 

Even as weak as he was, Gabriel could see the power swirling around the goddess, and it drew him forwards like a moth fluttering towards light. Without thinking, he stepped forwards, through the door.

 

Immediately the goddess’ great shaggy head snapped up, dark eyes focusing on him unnervingly. Gabriel froze. She paused, breath huffing pearlescent mist into the air. But then she turned away again, swinging the child around in a few more wild steps as the dance ended. 

 

There were cheers and laughter from the humans, the girl wrapping skinny arms around the goddess’ waist in a shy hug before skipping back to her mother. The humans hadn’t realised that he was here yet. Then one of the closest people turned and did a double take, letting out a surprised yell and stumbling back. The rest turned as well, and the chatter was smothered by a heavy silence.

 

Gabriel felt the weight of the humans’ eyes on him, surprised and alarmed at finding a stranger in their midst. He stepped back and turned away, towards the cold and darkness outside the tent, ashamed and nervous as a fledgling caught tugging his father’s robe. This was not his place. He shouldn't have come. He made to move away from the fire and the faces turned toward him, even though his vessel was so cold and tired his lungs ached. 

 

Before he could move though, the goddess spoke. 

 

“Why do you stand out there in the cold and the night? You will put out your spark, o burning one.” Her voice was rough and coarse as stones grinding together, but it was warm, like the hearthstones of a fire.

 

Gabriel hesitated, disbelieving. She wasn't turning him away?

 

“You would welcome me?” He asked cautiously, his tongue almost tripping itself on the unfamiliar syllables.

 

She smiled with her bison’s mouth. “All are welcome. Come, warm yourself. You have travelled far.”

 

Slowly, a smile spread back across Gabriel’s face. The goddess spoke to the humans in their own language, and the party looked between them, murmuring quietly. The little girl stepped out from behind her mother’s legs and slowly walked towards him. She held out her hand with a shy smile. Gabriel took it, a smile blooming on his own face as he was lead towards the fire. The faces around him were now welcoming and excited, and the goddess smiled at him, pleased. As he crossed into the circle, the spark of his grace that had been near extinguished when he left his brothers blossomed into warmth once more.

 

The fire was still warm. It was still burning bright, all these years later...

Sam opened his eyes, drawing a deep breath. He blinked up at the ceiling of the bedroom. Gabriel was suspiciously quiet. 

 

_ Gabriel? _

 

Gabriel almost jumped, startled.  **_Huh? Oh. It happened again, didn’t it? Sorry._ **

 

Sam gently waved him off.  _ Was that her? The goddess you mentioned? _

 

He was silent for a long moment, enough time that Sam was worried he’d upset him before he answered.  **_Yeah. Gaia. She… she was a good friend._ **

 

_ It’s okay to miss her, you know.  _ Sam told him quietly.

 

Gabriel sighed. **_It’s been a long, long time, Sam._**

 

But Sam knew that time didn’t erase the pain of losing a loved one. It might fade, enough for you to keep going, but Sam would still remember Jess until the day he died, and Gabriel’s angelic memories were still as sharp as though it had happened yesterday. His grief over her loss was still there, still strong, even after all this time.

 

Sam reached out, touching Gabriel’s grace, wrapping himself around it as far as he could go. He couldn’t take away that pain, nothing could, but maybe he could ease it. Gabriel froze, but Sam hung on until his grace relaxed, wrapping around Sam in return like he had the day before. Warmth and thoughts brushed against one another. Gabriel started humming, melodies and a hundred thousand voices all rising and falling together, reverberating through Sam’s soul. 

 

They settled down with a deep sigh to wait for the others to get back. 

 

.o0o.

 

It was mid morning and fifteen missed calls later by the time that Dean and Bobby arrived. 

 

Gabriel braced himself where they were sitting in the kitchen as he felt the souls pass the wards, already boiling with irritation. Sam stirred, his soul rousing where it had been resting cradled in his grace, stretching itself before Sam caught sight of his incoming family and groaned. Gabriel didn’t blame him. The urge to hide in the attic was growing stronger by the second. He drew himself up, preemptively going to put the coffee maker on. It couldn’t hurt.  **_Well, this isn’t going to be pretty._ **

 

_Hey, do you want me to deal with it?_ Bless him, Sam actually sounded concerned. But leaving them behind while he fled with Sam was Gabriel’s fuck up and he’d promised himself no more running. **_No, I’ll be fine, Samsquatch. You’re already being my human shield, I’m almost sure Dean won’t stab me when I look like you._**

 

Sam didn’t seem convinced, or maybe Gabriel was showing more of his stress through his shields than he thought he was, but either way he trailed a skein of soul lightly against his grace before pulling away. Gabriel felt a blush heating his cheeks, his stomach coming alive with butterflies. He really should have a word with Sam about that. It was his own fault. He had initiated it. There was no way for a human to know what it meant; what a deeply sacred connection it had been in heaven, how it had been reserved for those who were bonded- lovers, to use the closest human approximation, deficient though the word might be to explain that kind of devotion, that deep connection. 

 

Gabriel had unthinkingly revealed his feelings yesterday outside that warehouse in what would have been seen as a blurted love confession back in heaven, and Sam had innocently returned it. But the guilt was starting to eat at Gabriel because Sam had  _ no idea _ what he was saying when he embraced him like that, what it meant to an angel, and Gabriel wasn’t sure how long he could keep hiding his own reactions to it. He couldn’t let this go on. It would be taking advantage.

 

The rumble of a car engine died in the driveway. Later, he decided. He’d deal with this later.

 

The front door slammed open, yanking him out of his thoughts. Gabriel winced. “What the hell, Gabriel?” Dean’s voice boomed through the house, preceding him into the kitchen.

 

Gabriel dropped back down into one of the kitchen chairs as he came striding through the door, his face set in an expression he could only describe as ‘murderous’. “Hello to you too, Deano. Good to see you.”

 

Dean’s glare could have set him on fire. “Where the hell have you been? You were there one second, you told us you had the info, and then you walked out of that warehouse without even helping to clean up your damn mess! That fucking demon-”

 

“Technically, that was Sam’s mess.” Dean’s scowl deepened. Gabriel sighed, quickly interrupting again before he could get back into his tirade. “Fine, my big bro found us, and I ran, just like I always do. Turns out my wings are back in shape. Happy now?” 

 

Dean’s and Bobby’s eyes went wide, their souls sparking in surprise and panic. “Lucifer!? He was there?” Dean was looking around like he expected to see the devil following them into Bobby’s kitchen.

 

“Yup. You’ll be happy to hear that I even managed to shake him without dying this time. Me and Sammy are fine, thanks for asking.”

 

“Are you sure?” Bobby spoke for the first time. When Gabriel turned to look at him, he was surprised to see the gruff concern on his face. “You look like crap. He didn’t take a swipe at ya?”

 

“Nothing physical. Chillax, pops, we’re good. I’m just low on grace again.”

 

Bobby grunted and nodded, relaxing a little. Dean didn't, his eyes still narrowed with suspicion. “If Lucifer was there at that warehouse, then how come we didn’t see him?”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes then leaned forwards, talking very slowly and clearly. “Because, Dean, some time ago some very clever people invented things called ‘walls’. And when you’re behind them, you can’t see through-” 

 

“You didn’t fucking come back for us!” Dean was almost shouting. “We were in a room full of minced demon and no answers, waiting for you to get your ass back for hours! And then you send me one fucking text! Why did you ditch us, huh? Because, as far as I can see, you just wanted an excuse to fuck off out of there and leave us in the lurch!”

 

Gabriel lost his temper. Before he knew it, the words were coming out, and he was yelling back. “Because, shit-for-brains, I panicked! Do you know how often I dream about it? My own brother putting that blade through my chest? EVERY! FUCKING! NIGHT! So maybe I saw him coming at me and I panicked. Maybe I ran, so far and so fast that I nearly shredded my pissing wings right off my back, but you can believe for once in your self-centred life that YOU had nothing to do with it!”

 

There was a small _pop_ as one of the panes of glass in the kitchen window cracked. They glared at each other, breathing heavily.

 

_ You’re still dreaming about it?  _ Sam asked quietly.  _ I thought you were always in my dreams? _

 

**_Yeah, well, the cons of having a consciousness the size of mine kiddo, you can be thinking more than one thing at a time. Great for multitasking, less so for nightmares._ **

 

_ I’m sorry. _

 

**_Don’t be. Not your fault._ **

 

Bobby interrupted them, eyeing the cracked window. “This is interesting and all, but I’m more concerned with the fact that Lucifer found us in the first place. How did he know where you were? He got a tracker on you?”

 

That was a possibility. A concerning possibility.  **_That’s a good point, how did he find us? Those rib sigils should have hidden us._ **

 

He felt a flash of realisation and embarrassment from Sam.  **_What? What is it?_ **

 

_ I think it’s my fault. You know how I used your grace? For torturing the demon? _

 

Gabriel put it together.  **_Ah. Yeah, that would do it._ **

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow at them, seeing the internal conversation. “You boys want to clue me in sometime before the apocalypse gets here? I gotta know if the next time someone rings my doorbell it’s gonna be an insurance salesman or Lucifer himself.” 

 

Gabriel cleared his throat awkwardly. “There might have been some of my grace released when we were… interrogating the demon. He might have followed that to our vague location, then sensed us when he was closer. I wasn’t being as thorough with my shields as I usually am. Won’t happen again.”

 

Bobby nodded, some of the tension going out of the room with the realisation that they were safe. Even Dean relaxed marginally. “Good. Well, at least there’s that.” Bobby sniffed, letting out a pleased sound when he realised that the coffee machine was ready. He got up to grab a mug. “You said you got Pestilence’s location out of that demon?”

 

“Yeah. Wait here, I’ll show you.” Gabriel pushed himself up, grateful for the change of topic, walking through to Bobby’s study. Once he was out of the room he stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to calm himself. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper and reveal his nightmares. He knew that Bobby and Dean were allies in theory, but that didn’t stop the horrible ripped-open feeling of vulnerability. He wasn’t used to baring himself to other people. He’d spent too long in hiding for it to feel comfortable.

 

After a few moments he let out a breath, opening his eyes. He had a job. Pestilence’s movements.  **_Hey Sam, where does Bobby keep his maps?_ **

 

_ Bookshelf, third shelf from the top.  _

 

Gabriel leafed through them, pulling out a map of the East coast.  **_Bingo._ **

 

He strode back into the kitchen, ignoring the others watching him, and spread it out over the table, smoothing down the creases. Bobby and Dean leaned in closer to watch. Gabriel leant over the map. “Okay, Pestilence. According to that pathetic excuse for a demon, he’s travelling up the coast. He’ll hit here, then here, then here.” He pointed at the map, finger moving from settlement to settlement before tapping against New Orleans. “Once he gets to somewhere with a big enough population, the contagions will do his work for him. There won’t be any containing it.”

 

Dean nodded. “So we have to stop him before he gets there. Just another Wednesday for us, right?”

 

Bobby huffed, taking a sip of coffee. “Don’t be getting too confident. These bastards won’t go down easy.”

 

Dean was chewing the inside of his lip, his gaze far off into the distance. Gabriel leaned forwards, waving a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean! You seem even more broody than normal. What’s up with you?”

 

Dean’s eyes snapped up to scowl at him, fists clenched against the table. “Nothing.”

 

But Gabriel couldn’t leave it. There was too much leftover tension simmering behind his sternum, making him snappish. “You know, that reaction? Very much not nothing. What’s going on?”

 

_ Gabe- _

 

“Now, boys-”

 

Dean growled, riding over Bobby’s calming tone. “Listen, ass-face, it’s not your business, okay? Now butt out.” He turned to walk away, but Gabriel shot out an arm to hold him back.

 

“Seeing as I’m about to be walking into Pestilence-riddled territory with you, it’s very much “my business”.” Dean looked away when he used his fingers to emphasise the quotation marks, his jaw tensing. “And I know both you and your brother are both walking talking shipping containers full of issues on any day of the year, but if it’s gonna affect you in the field I need to know, capiche?”

 

Sam halfheartedly punched his grace.  _ Hey! Enough about my issues! _

 

**_Sorry Samsquatch, he’s more likely to spill if he thinks he isn’t the only one I’m picking on. Anyway, it’s the truth, sorry._ ** Sam punched him again.

 

“It’s Cas, that’s all.” Dean admitted, looking down so that Gabriel couldn’t see his eyes. “Wish he was helping us with this one.”

 

“What am I, chopped liver?” Inside, he asked Sam,  **_That’s a thought. And I can’t believe I haven’t asked this before. Why isn’t baby bro tagging along after you? I thought Cas was pretty enamoured with ‘humanity’,_ ** he looked pointedly at Dean.

 

_ Yeah, he was, um… about that…  _ Instead of explain further, Sam shoved a bundle of memories at him. 

 

Gabriel leafed through them, his horror growing by the second. No. No way. That couldn’t be his little brother carving a banishment sigil into his own chest with a boxcutter.  **_What the hell!? I figured he just broke up with your brother!_ ** He turned to Dean, his horror transforming itself into anger. “Winchester, you arrogant, selfish, short-sighted prick,” he growled.

 

Bobby was looking between them nervously, staying silent. Dean still wasn’t looking up, gaze directed down at the map. But this time, instead of getting angry, he seemed to deflate. His voice was low, defeated. “Yeah, lay it on me. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

 

Gabriel was nearly shouting. “He sacrificed himself for you! He  _ carved an angel banishing sigil into himself then activated it,  _ do you even know what that does to angels?”

 

Dean’s head flinched lower. “It was my fault. I walked myself into that room. He probably hates me. If he’s even alive.” Gabriel could see the self-hatred eating at his soul. 

 

Sam ran through his memories of the event again. Gabriel wasn't sure if it was Sam's horror or his own that made his stomach knot. Banishment was already painful. To have one carved into him would have been… he shuddered. 

 

He ran a hand through Sam’s hair, one hand on his hip, trying to calm himself. As satisfying as it was, taking it out on Dean wasn’t getting them anywhere. “Damn, baby bro had balls of steel, who knew?” He muttered to himself. “The good news is, little Cassie’s probably alive.” Dean looked up hopefully. “And I doubt he hates you. The naive moron was so besotted last time I saw him he couldn’t hate you if he tried. The bad news is, he could have touched down anywhere from here to Mars.”

 

Dean slumped back into despondency. “Great. So Cas is stuck in space then,” he sighed. 

 

Gabriel held up a hand. “Not so fast. He might be on earth, and if he is, we just have to find him.”

 

Dean perked up. “Really? How?”

 

“It’s not gonna be easy. Normally the only way to track an angel is by their grace signature, which is a problem, because baby bro currently has as much grace as a rock. But he hasn't fallen completely, so what's left of his grace is deflecting all the other types of tracking. So he’s flying under all the radars at the moment, and we’re not racing heaven to find him.” Then he grinned. “But luckily for you, I know just the lady for the job.”

 

“Who is it?” Bobby asked. “Another angel, a pagan god?”

 

“A witch, actually.”

 

“A witch!? I’m not working with witches!” Dean exploded. Gabriel and Bobby ignored the tantrum.

 

Bobby raised his eyebrows, looking thoughtful. “A witch, huh? Have witches ever dealt with angels? Wouldn’t have thought they’d know how to track you.” 

 

Gabriel snorted. “Track  _ me _ ? Maybe not, but trust me, she’s been around long enough to come across a lot of things, including angels. Really takes me back to the pagan orgies,” he sighed as though he was reminiscing. Dean made a noise of disgust.

 

_ How do we contact her? Do we have to do a summoning? Some kind of sacrifice?  _ Sam sounded more curious and less angry than Dean. Either that or he was just better at holding in his prejudices.

 

**_Watch and learn, young padawan._ **

 

Gabriel grinned as he reached into Sam’s pocket and drew out his phone. He typed in the number from memory and smirked at Dean’s scowl and Sam’s surprised laughter. “Rowena, sweetheart! I need a little favour.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, deepest apologies for the time this took but it has been a wild week. I had the evil trifecta of a new job (consisting of six hour no-break shifts of almost continuous running, jfc it's exhausting), a knee injury (because of said running), and now, to top it all off, a disgusting cold. So yeah, not much writing/editing has been happening. I am posting this right now from my bed, sat in a sea of dirty tissues. Gross.
> 
> But thank you as always for the comments!! I've been reading them with a big ol smile on my face every time I get a notification. Love you all!!

 

It wasn’t long before there was a sharp rapping on the door, and a musical voice called out, “Loki! Where are you? You’d better be in there, I didn’t get called all the way out to this dump for nothing!”

 

Sam opened the door, and several things happened almost simultaneously. He had just enough time to catch a blur of red and a pair of eyes widening in surprise before Gabriel shoved him firmly to the back of their mind. His hand shot up and grabbed a dark blur out of mid air. Sam felt the magical shockwave prickle the hair at the back of his neck before it dissipated. When Gabriel spoke though, his amusement was clear to hear. “That’s not a very nice way to greet your hosts! Do you throw hex bags at all your friends?”

 

The woman was short, Sam realised, her scarlet figure-hugging dress making her look even smaller, but nevertheless she was scowling at them from under her red curls with enough venom to kill an elephant. As soon as Gabriel tossed away the hex bag she started shouting, a long stream of high pitched cussing and invectives, her Scottish accent growing thicker the angrier she got. “What is this? Is this a trap? I cannae believe it! The Grand Coven sent you, didn’t they, the bag of wizened auld fuds-”

 

Gabriel grinned at her. “Tut tut. Language, Rowena!”

 

Rowena paused her tirade when she heard her name, squinting up at him. “Am I supposed to know you from somewhere?”

 

“You don’t recognise me? I’m hurt. And here I thought we had something special!”

 

Sam quickly hid his surge of jealously.

 

Rowena sent another scalding glare at him, then did a double take. “Loki? Is that you?”

 

“Sure is!” Gabriel held Sam’s hands out to the sides, showing off with a smirk. “What do you think?”

 

She gaped for a second, then shook off her surprise and laughed, blatantly ogling him up and down. “I do like the new suit! I have to say, I never thought you'd swap your body, you seemed to prefer the last one.” Rowena’s eyes were narrowed as she looked at him, calculating. “I could swear I’ve seen him somewhere before...” She pondered over it for a second, then clapped her hands in delight. “Oh yes, I remember now! The Winchesters.”

 

Gabriel grinned and turned to where Dean was staring daggers at Rowena from the entrance to the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest. “Well they do have a reputation. Hear that, boys? You’re celebrities!”

 

Rowena peeked around Sam to grin slyly at Dean. “You two aren't very popular in the covens, let me tell you.”

 

Dean scowled back. “Yeah? Well you aren't very popular in hunting circles.”

 

“What the hell’s going on out here? Some of us are tryin’ to work,” Bobby came to an abrupt stop when he saw Rowena on the doorstep. He glanced asessingly at Gabriel before looking back at the witch, eyes narrowing. “You must be Rowena.”

 

Rowena smirked. “And I know who you are, of course. Bobby Singer.”

 

Bobby scowled dangerously. “I sent five hunters after you when you started droppin’ bodies in Nevada last year. Care to tell me where they went?”

 

She smiled back at him from under her lashes. “Oh don’t you worry, they’re alive. Somewhere.”

 

“They’d better be,” Bobby growled.

 

Rowena laughed like she found his antics adorable. Dean’s hand twitched towards the back of his jeans. Gabriel quickly held up his hands between them. “Woah woah woah kids, playtime’s over, put down the toys. She’s here under ceasefire, remember? So let’s quit yacking on the porch like old women and go inside so we can talk business.”

 

Bobby and Dean both grumbled but stood back, their eyes not leaving the witch as they all filed into the kitchen.

 

Rowena dumped her bag on the floor and pulled out a chair, making herself at home under Bobby and Dean’s disbelieving stares (much to Gabriel’s amusement), before looking up at them expectantly. “Well if that’s settled, would it be too much to ask that we all sit down at the table like civilised people? I need a cup of tea.”

 

Gabriel chuckled and pulled out a chair for them, then raised his fingers and snapped. The world bent, and Bobby and Dean jumped as they found themselves suddenly seated. A teapot, two beers and a big, steaming mug of hot chocolate had materialised in front of them.

 

“Ga- Loki, what the hell?” Dean growled. Bobby was scowling at his beer mistrustfully. Rowena ignored them all, picking up the teapot and pouring some out into the delicate china cup. Gabriel reached eagerly for the cocoa.

 

_Hey, what did we agree about loading up on sweets?_

 

**_Oh give it a rest, princess, I won’t let the carbs get to your six pack._ **

 

Despite the internal bickering, Gabriel still had Sam’s eyes fixed on the witch sitting across from them. “So. Rowena. You remember that favour I did you a while back? When I got those hags off your tail?”

 

“Of course. How could I forget? The way you turned them into pheasants and released them just before a shoot was particularly memorable.” Rowena looked up at him from under her lashes as she took a sip.

 

Gabriel sighed through the steam rising from the mug, leaning back in the chair and stretching Sam’s long legs out under the table. “Ah, good times. Well, I'm calling it in. I need you to find me an angel.”

 

She paused. Her eyes narrowed over the rim of her teacup. “An angel, you say?”

 

Sam caught Dean fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. Bobby was still except for his eyes, which were flicking between them. Gabriel turned their attention back to Rowena. “How much are you aware of what's been going on?”

 

All traces of humour dropped out of Rowena’s expression. Her mouth thinned. “I know that the end of days is here. And I know that it was these two who started it.”

 

“Painful and succinct, but true. But we’ve got a plan to stop it. And we need the angel.”

 

Rowena set down her cup a little too hard on the table, the sharp _clack_ of china on wood loud in the charged silence of the kitchen. “Don’t you get me involved in this,” she hissed, leaning forwards to glare at Gabriel.

 

Sam felt himself sink. _She’s never gonna agree_ , he whispered. Gabriel waved him away and glared back at her, leaning forwards in return. “You don't want to take a side. Trust me, I get it. But there aren't sides in this war, not really. It’s us or oblivion.”

 

She laughed, a quick bitter peal. “Oh goody,” she said, dripping with dry sarcasm. “A clot-headed hunter, an old man and a trickster against Armageddon. What could go wrong?” She waved a manicured hand at him. “I have to say, I never would have thought you of all people would get involved. I thought you had better survival sense than that, Loki.”

 

“My hand was forced,” Gabriel replied calmly. “So? Will you do it?” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Call it a favour for an old friend.”

 

She was silent for several long moments. The only sound was the ticking of the clock in the study as they all held their breath. Rowena’s mouth quirked unhappily. Then she sighed, leaning back. “Alright, fine, I'll do it. Why not? We're all doomed anyway.”

 

**_Told you she’d do it_ ** , Gabriel grinned jovially. “That's the spirit. What do you need?”

 

Rowena stood, taking her tea with her, a whirlwind of activity now that she had made her decision. “A map, and something that belongs to them. And your guarantee you won't shoot me as soon as we’re finished here, or tell anyone else about my involvement. The Grand Coven can’t know.”

 

“Done.” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Sam was sure Rowena could feel the pulse of binding magic because she smiled briefly before turning to pull ingredients out of her bag.

 

Gabriel turned to Dean expectantly. “Well? Hand over the goods.”

 

Dean scowled but got up, not objecting as he left the room. Sam could hear the clump of boots as he went upstairs. Bobby went to the study and came back holding a large map, which Gabriel helped spread out flat on the kitchen table. Rowena plonked a heavy mixing bowl on one end, throwing ingredients into it without having to look at what her hands were doing, her face business-like. Dean came back with something blue clutched in his hand, looking between Gabriel and Rowena warily before holding the piece of fabric out.

 

Rowena stretched out and grabbed it, her small sharp hands snagging one end and pulling it out of his grip. Dean let go of the tie reluctantly.

 

“Oh, this’ll do nicely. Okay, give me a wee second, that goes here, and this goes…” she started chanting, Latin and Gaelic flowing from her lips. The rest of them watched on, mesmerised.

 

_Are you sure?_ Sam asked as the chanting got louder.

 

**_She’s the best witch in the tri-state area, probably in the US. She knows her stuff, trust me. I once saw her turn a man into a toad using nothing except her own spit and a pubic hair,_ ** Gabriel reminisced.

 

_Charming._

 

Rowena shouted a final clipped syllable and Dean yelled as the tie caught fire. A spark of white light leapt out of the summoning bowl and arced through the air, landing on the map and leaving a small, star-shaped burn on the edge. They all leaned in.

 

“You owe me a new damn table,” Bobby grumbled, scowling as he brushed his thumb over the singed wood. Dean squinted at the map.

 

“Where is that?”

 

_Here, let me google it._

 

Gabriel slipped back and Sam reached for the laptop, typing in the nearest town. He caught sight of Rowena watching him with fascination from the corner of his eye. He ignored her. A map came up, and Sam twisted or around to show the rest of the group. “It’s a little town outside New Orleans. And get this, look where the hospital is.” The locations matched up exactly. Sam glanced back at the map. _Wait. New Orleans. Isn’t that where Pestilence is headed?_

 

**_Unfortunately, yes._ **

 

Dean suddenly looked less sceptical, leaning over him interestedly. The spark of determination was back in his eyes. “Run a search on John Does.”

 

Sam was already doing it. “I think I’ve got him. Caucasian male, blue eyes, came in… from a fishing boat? Wait, there’s a picture.” Castiel’s unconscious face, battered and pale, appeared on screen.

 

“That's him. Let’s go.” Dean was gone before Sam had even put away his laptop, whipping his jacket off the hanger. “Get your stuff, Sammy, let’s hit the road!”

 

Rowena looked at Sam and rolled her eyes, amused. “Ah, puppy love.” Sam snorted. “So, has my debt been paid?”

 

Gabriel smoothly took over. “Yeah, you're free, jailbird.”

 

She clapped her hands, smiling, and started gathering up the spell equipment. “Excellent! I’ll be going then.”

 

Gabriel caught her arm as she went past. “About what I said about the apocalypse. Think about it. We need all the allies we can get.”

 

Rowena’s eyes darted to the side, to where Bobby’s back was towards them. “Are you sure your teammates approve of that offer?” She asked quietly.

 

“Don't worry about them. Dean’ll warm up. And Singer might look like a ball of moodiness wrapped in plaid with a trucker cap perched on top, but he grows on you. Like moss.”

 

Her eyes fixed on his, piercing. “And Samuel?”

 

“Sammy boy agrees with me. He knows the score. We need everyone.”

 

“I’d rather hear it from him, if that's alright.”

 

Gabriel pushed him forward. Sam looked down, meeting her gaze steadily. “Loki’s telling the truth.”

 

He felt a cold trickle down his spine as she looked up at him, green eyes meeting his, really looking at him for the first time. Rowena’s gaze was coldly assessing, ancient and wary and utterly willing to slaughter him if he got in her way.

 

Then she blinked and her expression smoothed over. She smiled up at him, then reached up on her tiptoes and patted his cheek. Sam drew back in surprise. “Och, you've been dealt a bad hand, Samuel. Am I ever glad I'm not in your shoes!” She chuckled at him. “I can see why you’ve got such a soft spot for him, Loki. I wondered why you’d leave the vessel awake, but now I think I know. Good luck with that!” With a wink, she gathered her bowls in her arms and swept out, leaving only a small singe on the tabletop. A second later, they heard the front door click shut, and then the ripple of the wards as she left the house.

 

Sam stood still in the kitchen, stunned and blinking. He could feel the top of his cheekbones burning. _Well. She’s...different_ , he said to Gabriel. _But I don't trust her._

 

Gabriel seemed equally contemplative. **_Clever man. I don't trust her as far as I can throw her, and normally I could drop-kick her into orbit if I wanted to. But she won't betray us right now. Not before she knows which way the chips are gonna fall. She wants to be on the winning team._ **

 

_Don’t we all._

 

They heard the impala revving. Sam sighed and reached for his coat, shouting a goodbye to Bobby. Dean was so impatient sometimes.

 

**_Let's go before your brother leaves without us. And before Pestilence gets there._ **

 

.o0o.

 

One second, Sam was sitting in the front seat of the impala on the way to New Orleans, legs jammed under the dashboard, and the next he was standing on the top of a hill.

 

He looked around in wonder. The car interior had morphed into ruins, neat lines of stone and half-demolished buildings stretching down and away from him in terraces. The sun felt as bright as a spotlight after the dim illumination in the car. Steep slopes rose and fell precipitously in every direction, verdant green fingers stretching up towards the light.

To his surprise he saw llamas, grazing on the grass among the rocks, their long necks coming up to look at him.

 

“Machu Picchu, in case you were wondering.”

 

He turned and there was Gabriel standing next to him, horrific hawaiian patterned beach shirt, board shorts, sunglasses and all. Sam grinned at him, his eyes drawn inexorably to the pale skin of his vessel, the sliver of his waist showing when he stretched. _Stop it,_ he scolded himself, making himself look away before Gabriel could catch him at it. “Isn’t Machu Picchu at altitude?” He asked quickly. “You’re gonna get sunburn.”

 

It was Gabriel’s turn to laugh, spreading his arms. “Ultraviolet radiation’s no match for this gloriousness!”

 

Sam shrugged, a grin twitching the corners of his mouth. “If you say so. Don’t come crying to me when your skin starts peeling off.”

 

“Sam. It’s a dream. Well, it’s _your_ dream, so the only reason for my skin to start peeling off would be if you wanted it to.”

 

Sam was half tempted to give him sunburn just to prove he could.

 

Gabriel pointed a finger warningly at him, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t even think about it.”

 

Sam grinned at him impishly. It was the first time they had been back in Sam’s dreams together since the they had encountered Lucifer, and something felt different to Sam. Something had changed between them.

 

Gabriel looked more relaxed than Sam had ever seen him, wandering over to pet a llama. Was he right? Was there a different type of tension there now? Or was the tension all coming from Sam himself? The bright sun played off Gabriel’s hair, highlighted the curve of his back where he bent down to stroke the animal, and Sam caught another flash of skin. Not for the first time, Sam wondered if if his heart was racing as fast in the world outside as it was here. _I want to see more,_ he realised with a flash of heat. No, he didn’t just want to see, he wanted to touch, to caress, and-

 

He let out a slow breath, frowning to himself. Damn it, what was wrong with him?

 

Whatever it was, Sam was determined not to let it affect their friendship. Gabriel didn’t need to be dealing with his issues on top of everything else.

 

Luckily, Gabriel didn’t seem to have noticed his internal struggle. He straightened up, turning back to Sam, and his reluctant grimace was enough to jolt Sam out of his own thoughts. “I do have… something to tell you.”

 

“Yeah?” Sam asked, a sense of foreboding creeping through him, his guilty heart starting to race again. Had Gabriel noticed Sam’s attentions? Was he making him uncomfortable? Oh god, did he want to stop spending their dream time together?

 

“You know how you keep doing that thing, with your soul?”

 

“What, like the soul hugging thing?”

 

Sam could have sworn that Gabriel’s cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, that. There’s… there’s things… angel stuff...” he sighed in frustration. “It’s just… I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to do it any more.”

 

Sam felt his stomach drop again. “What? Why?”

 

Gabriel stammered a bit more, like he was searching for the right words. “I just… you don’t know what it stands for. It means more than a manly backslap, trust me, and I don’t think you-”

 

“I do mean it!” Sam protested.

 

“How can you say that, Sam? You can’t even see me properly in the real world! I’m just… we’re so different, you don’t even know it!” Gabriel stepped back, his expression pained. “In my true form I could wrap three times around this hill, I could crush the entire city of New York just by lying down and rolling over once! I’ve been alive since before this planet was a lump of gravel orbiting the sun! I’ve done things that would make your hair curl!” He was adamant, gesturing jerkily down at himself. “I know I look human, Sam, but I’m not!! You don’t even know what I am!!”  
  
“You think I don’t know what you are? You think I can’t feel it?” Sam protested back. “And I don’t have to know exactly what you’ve done and where you’ve been for all eternity to know who you are now! You’re my… you’re my best friend, Gabriel. It’s about comforting, right? The soul hugging?”

 

“Uh, in a way, but listen Sam it’s a weird angel thing-”

 

“Then I’m not gonna stop unless you actually want me to.” Sam stepped forward, and before Gabriel could object, pulled him firmly into his arms. And Sam knew that this was a dream, knew this wasn’t real, but damn it all, it felt real. Gabriel’s body was solid and warm against him, his hair tickling against Sam’s chin. It made his heart glow in his chest, his stomach squirm with guilty butterflies, but he didn’t let on, even if he was getting more pleasure out of this than he should have been. This wasn’t about him. This was for Gabriel.

 

“Yeah, but…” Gabriel wavered, then gave in, slumping forwards into Sam’s hold like he just couldn’t resist, his arms coming up to embrace him back. “Oh alright, whatever,” he muttered against Sam’s chest.

 

That more than anything convinced Sam that whatever bullshit Gabriel might protest with, he really did want this. For someone who had grown up with Dean, it was easy for Sam to spot the way Gabriel put on a tough exterior, denied himself affections, always tried to be cool and in control because he was terrified of his own vulnerability. But Sam had caught enough glimpses behind that armour to know who Gabriel really was. He had seen his dreams, his memories, he had _been_ him. He knew that Gabriel desperately wanted this, _needed_ this after the last few encounters with his brother had shaken his already flimsy sense of self-worth, even if he didn’t want to admit that to anyone.

 

Gabriel’s fingers were tight in the back of his shirt, and he was suspiciously quiet. Sam ran the flat of his palm gently up and down Gabriel’s spine and he melted. Sam smiled against the top of his head, closing his eyes against the bright sun.

 

Eventually, though, he had to ask. “So you were saying, about your true form,” Sam said hesitantly, “can I see it?”

 

Gabriel slowly let go, peeling his face off the front of Sam’s jacket to look up at him. “You really want to see me? The real me? You’re serious?” He sounded incredulous.

 

Sam shrugged. “Well, yeah.” Why wouldn’t he be? He was curious. And it wasn’t like he’d ever be able to look at an angel outside of his own head; he’d seen what the sight of Cas had done to Pamela. But he trusted Gabriel to know how much of his true form Sam could cope with.

 

Gabriel cocked his head for a moment, considering, then looked at the ruins around them. “Fine, but we can’t do it here. Come on,” he grabbed Sam’s arm, and the cathedral folded its familiar walls around them. Sam noted that there seemed to be more light coming through the stained glass than the previous times he’d been here, casting blurred pictures across the stone tiles.

 

Gabriel still looked nervous. “I’ll have to shrink down some to fit in here. Are you sure you want to see? There’s a reason ‘Be ye not afraid’ was my first line.”

 

Sam rolled his shoulders, grinning down at him to try and lighten the mood. “I think I’m harder to impress than a couple of shepherds. I’ll be fine.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but he relaxed. “Okay, tough guy, close your eyes. I might take a second to adjust the brightness.”

 

Still smiling, Sam obligingly closed his eyes, covering them with a hand. Now that it was happening he felt as giddy as an excited child. He was gonna get to see an angel!

 

“No peeking!”

 

“I wasn’t!” Sam pressed his hand harder against his face.

 

There was a dry rustle of feathers. Then a bright light pressed against his closed eyelids, seeping through his hands. The rustling grew, and a dry slythering sound, and several loud thumps. The floor shook with the vibrations of something huge, landing just in front of him, and Sam had to fight every hunter instinct not to jump backwards and uncover his eyes to look.

 

Slowly, the light died away. A puff of hot air washed over him.

 

_“Okay, you can look,”_ came Gabriel’s voice. But there was something different about it. It seemed to come from all directions at once, like a hundred thousand voices had been pressed together into one, old and young, male and female, and everything inbetween.

 

Sam took his hand away from his face. Hesitantly, squinting, he opened his eyes. He gasped.

 

Gabriel filled the cathedral. Feathers rustled as pairs of wings adjusted themselves so they were folded more neatly along the magnificent creature’s spine. A long, sinuous body encircled Sam, draped behind the pews, spilling over the altar, a long tail wrapped around a pillar. He couldn’t quite focus on Gabriel’s faces; they kept shifting, flickering in and out of sight, out of his human ability to percieve them. All he caught was features- a viciously curved beak here, a flick of a pointed ear there, a twitch of a nose. And, of course, uncountable golden eyes, all blinking down at him, shimmering, metallic and liquid. The closest head was turned sideways to get close to him, the main eyes as big as Sam was tall. Lobed pupils contracted, narrowing down to slits to focus on him. Watching him carefully, almost nervously. Like Gabriel was afraid Sam was going to run from him.

 

“Gabe?”

 

Gabriel hummed, the rumbling making the ground shake and the stained glass windows ring. All around him, the impressions of lips lips split into wolfy grins, revealing mouthful after mouthful of ferociously pointed teeth. There was a scraping sound, and then a pair of great feathered paws encircled him, their pads resting warm against his back.

 

Sam stepped forwards, placing a hand hesitantly against a great feather-furred cheek. Gabriel was warm, even warmer than he had been in human form. He still couldn’t stop staring into the one great eye in front of him. The shimmering muscles in the iris stretched, the pupil flexing, and Sam noticed a slight glow in its depths, an ember of Gabriel’s grace just waiting to be called forth into bright fire.

 

Gabriel had been right in a way; Sam hadn’t been able to imagine Gabriel. It had been one thing to see Gabriel’s memories, but it was quite another to stand and compare them, face to face. But Gabriel had been wrong if he thought that would make Sam fear him.

 

“Woah.” He couldn’t help breathing. “You’re gorgeous.” He rubbed over Gabriel’s cheek, feathers slipping under his fingers, and the great eye drooped half closed. The humming grew louder, making his bones vibrate. He laughed.

 

_“Shut up,”_ the multitude of voices murmured, but the paws nudged behind him to urge him closer, the great tails uncoiling from the pillars to wind around them. Sam grinned. This was how it was meant to be.

 

.o0o.

 

_A crossroads in Minnesota_

 

The _crunch… crunch... crunch_ of the shovel was almost deafening in the silence. Even with Roy behind him, guarding his back, Walt could already feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he hacked away at the rocky ground. And it wasn’t like he was a coward. Crossroads were just fucking creepy, okay?

 

“Walt, I don’t know about this.”

 

Walt ignored his companion, sticking his spade into the hole to test the depth. Good. He placed the box carefully at the bottom then started shovelling the earth back on top. “We’ve been over this, Roy. I'm telling you, it’ll be worth it.”

 

Roy was still shifting nervously, the twitchy asshat, kicking the toe of his boot against the ground. Walt straightened up and brushed some grit off his pants, swallowing down his impatient sigh with some difficulty. “Look. We tried to take them down them with regular bullets last time, and it obviously didn't take. We need something more effective! Something that can do more damage than shotgun rounds,” he wheedled.

 

“But are you sure this is the way to get it? They're agents of evil, Walt!”

 

Walt grunted, staring off into the darkness. “Sometimes you gotta use evil to fight evil, you know that.”

 

Roy still didn't look convinced. Walt ignored him, smothering his annoyance by looking around for the demon. Where was it? Weren’t they supposed to appear immediately when you summoned them? Trust their luck to get the one demon with bad timekeeping.

 

“You called?”

 

They both turned, Roy spinning so fast that he tripped over his own feet and stumbled with a curse. Walt’s hand went to the gun at his waist, even knowing that they’d summoned it. Well, knowing what they’d summoned, going for guns was the natural response.

 

The man standing behind them was short, to Walt’s surprise, stockily built, dark haired. He reached up with one pale hand and brushed some imaginary flecks of dirt from his immaculate suit, raising an eyebrow imperiously.

 

“Well, get on with it then. I'm on a tight schedule these days. There's an apocalypse going on, after all.” Impatience was obvious in the clipped syllables of its English accent.

 

Walt smirked, looking down at it. “I thought you demons could have your pick of meat suits?”

 

He immediately regretted the mocking words. The being’s eyes flashed bloody red and fixed on him. Roy let out a tiny squeak beside him and stumbled back a step. The demon didn’t say anything. It didn’t need to. Walt was frozen like a lemming under the gaze of a bird of prey. He cleared his throat, trying to throw off the uneasy feeling sitting heavily in his gut. “We want a weapon. One that will kill more than regular bullets and rock salt.”

 

One of the man’s immaculate eyebrows rose another fraction. Like he was disappointed. “‘Want’. You ‘want’ a weapon. So rude. Honestly, you hunters have lost your manners, the lot of you.” He sighed, his eyes fading back to human. “I’ll need to know what you’re trying to kill.”

 

“The Winchesters.”

 

The demon looked surprised for a second, and then he threw back his head and laughed at them. “The Winchesters? Really? You do know they’ll come right back like a pair of infernal jack-in-the-boxes, don't you?”

 

Walt gritted his teeth. “That's why we came to you. We need something to stop them, once and for all.”

 

The demon thought about it for a moment, head cocking to one side. “Alright. Let's say I can get you a gun that packs a little more punch than the peashooter you're carrying. What's the trade? What's in it for me?” His face turned conniving, eyes narrowing, gaze sharp and cunning as a fox.

 

Walt raised his chin. “My soul and five years off my life.”

 

The demon snorted, unimpressed. “Only five? That's a beggar’s number. I’ll take ten.”

 

“Walt!” Roy was hissing incredulously behind him. Walt didn't turn around.

 

“If we don't do this, the world’s screwed. ‘Sides, if there’s a heaven, you know we aren't going there anyway. What's a few less years for a hunter?”

 

“Walt-”

 

“Done.” Walt interrupted. A nasty smile spread across the demon’s face and it reached out, fast as a snake, looped a hand around his neck and slammed their lips together. Walt struggled for a second before it let him go, leaving him to cough and curse and wipe the taste of bitter sulphur out of his mouth with a smug look on its face.

 

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

 

With a sharp _crack_ they were alone again in the deserted crosswords. It was gone! Just like that! Walt was about to swear, but then he saw something gleaming where the demon had stood. He looked around cautiously, then strode slowly forwards and bent to pick it up.

 

Light glinted subtly from the barrel of the gun, shone more brightly from the polished trigger. The words picked themselves out in shadows where they were carved into the metal; Samuel Colt. A weapon fit for the greatest hunters, and it was his to wield.

 

He smiled grimly. Now he stood a chance.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

They arrived in the hospital with plenty of time to spare, thanks to Dean breaking several speed limits, but that wasn’t enough to make them stop worrying about it.

 

_ We should have another day at least to find him before Pestilence gets here judging on how far he was travelling before, _ Sam noted as Gabriel fumbled with his tie.  _ You can’t sense him yet, can you? _

 

**_Can’t feel anything. But then, my senses aren’t exactly perfect at the moment._ ** Gabriel managed the knot, pulling it tight and opening the car door to see Dean tapping his foot impatiently. He stepped out, tugging the suit until it sat right on Sam’s ridiculous limbs. “Let’s do this!”

 

They walked through the glass doors, Gabriel heading straight for the service desk. “Hi there, I’m agent Kennedy, and this is agent Eunice. We're here about a John Doe you reported.” Gabriel and Dean flashed their bogus badges. The woman behind the desk looked tired and unimpressed, but Gabriel gave her Sam’s most charming smile. “We think we’ve located the relatives, we’re just making sure he matches the description. We'll have him out of your hair on no time. You need to open up beds on the ward, right?”

 

She glanced at their badges one more time before obviously deciding she didn’t get paid enough to investigate further and turning back to her paperwork. “Alright, go on through,” she heaved a sigh. “Ward ten, floor three.”

 

Dean was nearly vibrating in place as they got in the lift. To Gabriel’s amusement, he sprang out as soon as the doors were open. He strode ahead of them down the ward, only stopping for a brief look into each before reaching the end. Gabriel followed at a slower pace. This close he could finally feel his brother’s grace, a tiny beacon barely even registering on his radar. No wonder no one else had found him yet.

 

They walked onto the ward, identical to a hundred others on the floor. The other five beds were empty and bare of sheets, the curtains pulled back. But the curtain nearest the window was half-closed, and there in the bed, with Dean fretting over him, was Castiel. 

 

He still looked the same as he had in the photo, battered and pale. The silvery lines of scars peeked out over the neck of his hospital gown. The machine beside him showed his weak but steady pulse, the green line rising and dipping rhythmically. To anyone else, he would have seemed almost dead, but Gabriel could see his younger sibling’s grace curled deep in his chest still. His own grace tightened in sympathy. It was so small. Dean was staring down at his still face, his jaw clenched tight.  _ Cas _ , Sam said with relief and sadness, his soul reaching forwards like he could touch his sleeping friend.

 

Time to get this show on the road. Gabriel reached down, rapping Cas on the forehead. “Wakey wakey!”

 

Cas shot up in bed, his eyes flying open, and the machines went wild. Dean leapt forwards, grabbing hold of his arms to brace him upright. “Hey there buddy, you're okay, I've gotcha!” 

 

Cas stared up at him. “Dean… what… you escaped, it worked! I was worried. I thought you might have… given up.”

 

Dean was grinning, his eyes alight, his whole face looking younger, his hands loosening to gently grip Cas’ shoulders. “What can I say? You gave me my faith back.” He cleared his throat. “Welcome back, Cas.”

 

“Where are we? Is this a hospital? How long was I out?” Cas looked around blearily, his eyes finally focusing on Sam. His eyes narrowed, then widened in alarm. “Dean! Dean, something's wrong. That isn't Sam!”

 

Dean looked awkwardly at Sam, then back at Cas. “Yeah, about that. Cas, some things… changed while you were out.” 

 

“They mean they nearly got their asses killed again, and I  _ almost _ martyred myself for them.” Gabriel interrupted. 

 

Cas’ eyes narrowed in recognition. “Gabriel.”

 

“Hey little bro. You've lost a lot of grace, I see. It's even smaller now than it was when I taught you how to fly!” 

 

Cas narrowed his eyes at Gabriel in confusion, “Teaching me how to fly? But I don’t remember you ever-” but Gabriel was already moving on. 

 

“I heard you gave yourself some new artwork since the last time I saw you.” 

 

Cas surreptitiously tugged his hospital gown further up, glaring at Gabriel. He struggled into a sitting position. “What about Sam? What have you done with him? Tell me everything.”

 

Gabriel sauntered around the bed, fiddling with the dials on the machines until they stopped beeping wildly. “Relax, Sam’s fine. Why does everyone automatically assume I've killed him? I’m not that bad, am I?”

 

Cas’ eyes narrowed. “Show me.”

 

“Really?” Gabriel asked incredulously. Cas’ hard stare brooked no argument. “Alright, Alright!”

 

Sam pushed eagerly to the front. He wobbled a little as the rapid change threw off his balance, but caught himself on the bed rail and smiled at Cas. “Hey, Cas. It's good to see you.”

 

Cas turned to Dean next to his bedside for confirmation. “It’s really him?” Dean nodded.

 

Sam smiled. “Yeah, it’s me. I really am alright, Cas. I swear, I’m fine.”

 

Cas’ face softened a little, and he leaned back against the pillows with a tired sigh. “I'm glad to hear that, Sam. I apologise, but I had to check.”

 

Gabriel pushed forwards again impatiently. “Happy now?”

 

Cas’ expression morphed back into a scowl. “Aren't you going to apologise for the last time we met? Locking us inside television programs was very poor manners.” 

 

“Well, if I felt sorry about it, I would. But I don't. Watching you all run around in circles was hilarious!” He ignored the vibes of disapproval coming from Sam and the irritation coming from Cas. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, Gabe.”

 

Gabriel sobered a little, meeting the startling blue of his brother’s eyes. “But you’re right. I do regret everything else. I’ve changed my tune. We’ll catch you up later, but let’s just say I’m firmly on team stop-the-apocalypse now.”

 

“Team free will,” Dean muttered under his breath. Gabriel ignored him. 

 

“So what now?” Cas asked, glancing between them. “I take it you’re still fighting the apocalypse.”

 

Dean sighed, sinking into the bedside chair. “Yeah, you didn’t miss much on that front.”

 

“Fear not though, these bozos finally have a plan, thanks to yours truly. But first, let’s get out of here, yeah? No time for chit-chat, we’re in danger.”

 

Cas perked up, alert. “What’s going on?”

 

“Pestilence is about to hit town, and you, baby bro, are vulnerable.” Gabriel explained, glancing around the curtain to check for the nurses. “I don’t want him getting his scabby fingers anywhere near you.” His grace reared up in protectiveness at the thought. “So let’s vamoose before he gets here, yes? We can regroup at the motel and figure out where to go from there.”

 

Cas nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood, only to nearly fall backwards again.

 

“Woah there, easy soldier.”

 

“Dean, I’m fine.”

 

“Sure. That’s why you’re as wobbly as a toddler. Just lean on me, would ya?”

 

Gabriel checked the corridor for souls before turning back to them, Sam’s amusement at their familiar bickering making him grin. “Okay, we’re clear.”

 

They had barely passed the first set of beds when Gabriel felt something move on the edges of his grace that made him freeze. Dean cursed behind him as he and Cas collided with his back, but he was too busy to notice. There was something out there. It left a greasy scum against his grace, a bad taste that he couldn’t wipe away. Sam felt it too, his disgust palpable.  _ What _ is  _ that? _

 

“What the hell, man?” Dean growled at him, steadying Cas.

 

“We’re too late.” Gabriel explained, his horrified confusion showing in Sam’s voice. “He’s here.”

 

Dean was instantly alert. “Already!? How many demons with him?”

 

“Two on either side, then a half dozen waiting outside. They’re splitting up, covering the exits. They know we’re in here.”  **_Shit. Shit!_ **

 

Sam’s soul swirled in agitation.  _ How did he find us already!? He wasn’t meant to be here for another day at least!  _

 

Gabriel couldn’t answer that. Dean cursed again, striding over to the window and peering through the curtains. Whatever he saw must have confirmed Gabriel’s words, because it had his jaw jumping. He pulled the curtains abruptly shut again. “Fuck. New plan. We have to take him on now, before he can plant the croatoan.”

 

Gabriel balked. “Hey hey, what happened to fighting again another day?”

 

_ Dean’s right Gabe, _ Sam put in.  _ Even if we manage to get out of here undetected, he’ll kill the whole hospital in retaliation. And then it’ll spread. You heard Bobby, if it gets into New Orleans there’d be no stopping it. It would be a pandemic. _

 

Gabriel felt his grace rippling with agitated indecision. He was torn. Half of him, the cowardly half that always ran rather than staying to fight, urged him to sneak them out anyway, to ignore the others and get to safety. Cas was leaning most of his weight against the nearest bedframe, for Dad’s sake. He could barely walk, he was in no shape to fight! It would be hard enough to protect them all for long enough to escape.

 

But the other half of his grace was looking down at the tiny, flickering souls in the paediatric wards below them. Children’s souls were always so bright, so clean. Unspoilt by the world. His grace swelled with protective anger at the thought of letting the horseman anywhere near them. And then there was the ICU. And the oncology department. An entire hospital of vulnerable people. It twinged something deeply buried in his grace, that long-repressed instinct to protect the innocent and wipe out the evil that stalked the earth.

 

But Pestilence was powerful, and Gabriel was still relatively weak. He honestly didn’t know which of them would win in an even fight, and there wasn’t enough time to plan and push the odds in his favour. Dear Father, was this what it was like being a human  _ all the time _ ? How did they stand being so powerless!?

 

“Alright. Alright.” He ran a hand through Sam’s hair, licked his dry lips. “What’s the plan?”

 

Dean cocked his gun, inspecting the bullets. “Pestilence gets in here, I shoot him, you cut his finger off.”

 

“ _ That’s _ your plan!?” 

 

“What, like you have a better one?”

 

Gabriel laughed, somewhere between incredulousness and hysteria. “Dad above, how are you two still alive?”

 

“Dumb luck and resurrections.” Dean snapped his gun back together, flicking the safety off in one smooth move. “Cas, go hide behind the curtains, yeah?”

 

Cas bristled, his meagre grace fluffing up like an angry cat.  “Dean, I refuse to sit here and do nothing while you-” He tried to push himself more upright but staggered, Dean catching him by the arm again before he could fall.

 

“Dude, you were in a coma five minutes ago. The only thing you’re gonna do in a fight is get your ass kicked.  Let us take care of this one, yeah?”

 

Gabriel interrupted before Castiel could let loose an acidic comeback. “If you two lovebirds are done bickering, he’s coming.” 

 

An unnatural silence was falling outside the room, a pall falling over the hospital. Gabriel swallowed, his eyes fixed on the door.

 

_You can let me handle this,_ Sam gently interrupted his nervous jittering. _You’re not used to fighting depowered, I am_. Gabriel dithered for a moment, unsure. How could he keep them all safe if he was at the back of his own mind? _If you let me do the fighting, you can concentrate on protecting us,_ Sam pointed out, following his thoughts. _He’s going to be trying to infect us. Can you stop us from being overwhelmed as soon as he walks in here?_

 

**_I can try. Good plan. Quick, switch out before he gets here._ ** Sam leapt forward into the driver’s seat, Gabriel settling in behind him. Sam was already moving into position, taking out his gun and checking that his knife was secure in his belt with practised movements. “Be ready,” he said to Dean, “he’s almost on this floor.” 

 

Dean nodded at him, head cocking slightly to the left, and Gabriel marvelled how much information Sam could get out of just that glance.  _ He’ll take the left of the door, I’m taking the right, _ Sam informed him, then more quietly,  _ I know you’re still not as full power. Just do as much as you can, yeah? _

 

Gabriel was too busy concentrating for his pride to be bruised. He expanded his grace, pushing his strength out past the confines of Sam’s body until it formed a shimmery protective barrier around them all.  **_I got this. Go do your hunter-y thing._ **

 

They got into position, tucked out of sight on either side of the door. Dean gave Sam one last glance, a nod, and then his body stilled, going completely focused. Sam did too, his thoughts going clear and sharp as ice, his muscles tensing, ready. The curtains rippled as Castiel hid, then even that fluttered into stillness.

 

There was no sound on the ward. No movement.

 

There was a tap… tap… tap of shoes advancing towards them down the corridor, standing out now against the silence. Sam’s hand clenched tight on his gun. The footsteps paused outside their room, and Gabriel felt a trail of slimy essence oozing past the door, questing around for something. They all held their breath.

 

The door creaked open, and Sam and Dean didn’t even wait to see who it was before firing. The shots rang out, deafeningly loud, a haze of bullets filling the air until the guns ran out. Bullet casings tinkled to the floor.

 

But with a lurch of Sam’s stomach they realised that Pestilence was still standing, unmoved, an arrogantly amused expression on his thin face. The horseman pretended to brush dirt off the arm of his immaculate doctor’s coat. Then he reached out, his essence a foul rolling wave, overwhelming Gabriel’s defences.

 

The dizziness was instantaneous. Sam’s knees hit the floor with a sharp crack, and he turned to the side as he heaved, limbs shaking, the room spinning around them. Pain stabbed sharp into their stomach, and to Gabriel’s horror the next wave of vomit was laced with blood, the taste of metal burning sharp and acrid in their throat. The pain spread, their fingers going numb, their skin burning as though it was on fire.

 

Pestilence tutted, walking past their gasping, twitching bodies, careful not to get any vomit on his shoes. “Humans, always so messy.”

 

Sam turned his head to watch him with one eye, cheek pressed against the cold floor. Pestilence stopped in the middle of the ward, turning to inspect all of the curtains pulled around the beds. His voice was smooth, calm, loud in the silence despite Sam’s laboured breaths rasping in their ears. “Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. But, really, that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself is...pure. Single-minded.” His long, skeletal fingers wrapped around the edge of the curtain where Cas was hiding. Dean heaved himself up onto his forearms and glared, despite the blood spilling out over his lips. “And so infinitely inventive! Constantly changing, adapting, growing. Always a new virus or bacterium or helminth or protozoan, always a new way for it to spread. The one thing that humanity will never be able to defeat. Apart from their own violent natures, of course. You humans, so fragile.” He laughed, ripping back the curtain and exposing Castiel snarling up at him. 

 

Pestilence looked down at him, head cocked, patronising smile exposing too many teeth. “And there you are. I’m just here to clean up my boss’ mess. That’s what I do for a living, and he is an archangel, after all; notoriously messy. And this is one errand I don’t mind running, it’s almost too easy. I was in the neighbourhood anyway, which helps. I’m here to deliver a very special present to the people of New Orleans, and I’m hoping they’ll be kind enough to share it with the rest of the world. The gift, as they say, which keeps on giving.” He turned his head to the other side, like he was trying to inspect Castiel from another angle. What he saw seemed to please him because his smile grew. “You  _ are  _ a fascinating specimen. An occupied vessel, but powerless. There’s not a speck of angel left in you, is there?”

 

Pestilence’s powers reached out towards Cas; Gabriel panicked, dropping the small protection that he’d been able to give Sam and Dean to fling all his grace in front of his little sibling. Simultaneously, Sam flung his knife, sending it skidding across the polished floor. In one quick motion, Cas snatched it up and brought it down on the horseman’s closest finger. 

 

“Maybe just a speck.”

 

Pestilence shrieked, a horrible, inhuman sound, clutching at the wound. He bared his teeth at Cas and snarled, bloody claws reaching for him, but Gabriel pushed with his grace, buffeting him back. Pestilence turned to cast him a look of utmost loathing before vanishing with a crack, taking the smell of rot with him.

 

Sam’s arms gave out, letting his body collapse onto the floor, and with a jolt of panic Gabriel suddenly realised how bad the shape he was in.  _ Gabriel _ , Sam murmured, their sight dimming at the corners.

 

**_Hold on, Sammy, I got you, you’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine._ ** Gabriel surged his grace through their body, driving out the parasites and healing the wrecked tissues of Sam’s lungs and stomach. Sam took a great heaving gasp, then another, his breathing settling down as the pain vanished. _ Dean!  _ He thought suddenly, making his eyes fly open again,  _ you need to heal Dean! _

 

Gabriel reached out with a groan, healing Dean’s body as well. Dean immediately pushed himself upright, staggering across the room. Not so much as a word of thanks. Gabriel rolled Sam’s eyes. “Cas! Are you alright? Did you get it?” 

 

“Yes, Dean. I’m fine.” Cas looked tired but relieved, batting away Dean’s concerned hands and holding up the ring for them all to see. Gabriel let Sam’s body collapse back with a sigh. They had done it. Dean laughed, and before their disbelieving eyes, pulled Cas into his arms.

 

“Don’t do that to me man, I only just got you back. I thought I’d lost you again!” 

 

Cas slowly unfroze, arms coming up uncertainly to return the embrace. “I’ll endeavour not to in the future, Dean,” he replied, slightly muffled against the shoulder of Dean’s jacket. Sam’s happiness at the sight was making their whole headspace light up despite their exhaustion.

 

**_Awww, how adorable!_ **

 

_ God, don’t tease them Gabe or Dean’ll go back to staring longingly at Cas from a distance and I swear I will end you. _

 

**_Always trying to ruin my fun, Sammy!_ ** Nevertheless, Gabriel reluctantly discarded the jokes he’d been planning. Sam was right, it wasn’t worth suffering through that much unresolved sexual tension, no matter how many laughs he could get out of it. And anyway, he had other things to do at the moment.

 

He ran his grace through Sam’s veins, double checking that every hint of infection was gone before pushing his grace out again, straining out to touch every patient in the entire hospital. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. A miracle of this size was going to hurt. 

 

He caught Sam watching him with surprise. **_What?_ ** He muttered defensively.  **_You think I should just let them all die of swine flu because we had a supernatural throw-down in here? He might not have managed to release the croatoan, but just his presence was probably enough to infect the entire hospital._ **

 

Sam’s thoughts were almost sad.  _ No, I just… thanks. I guess I… wish I could help people like you can.  _

 

**_You do already, Sam,_ ** he told him gently. He knew Sam wouldn’t believe him.

 

_ Not all the time. We’re too late for a lot of them.  _ He paused. _ Take energy from me as well. That way it won’t drain you as much, right? _

 

**_No, Sam, I couldn’t…_ ** But Gabriel hesitated, torn. Extracting energy demanded touching Sam’s soul not only on the outside the way they’d been doing so far (and there was that guilt again), but on the inside, cracking through his shields and stabbing through to Sam’s very essence. It was a violation, something done only in dire emergencies. And it was always painful for the human. It was unavoidable. He didn’t want to do that to Sam, of all people. But facing Pestilence had weakened him again. They couldn’t afford for him to completely lose his grace, not now. And Sam’s soul was one of the most powerful he’d seen in millennia. 

 

**_This is gonna hurt, you know that? A lot._ **

 

_ I know. Go on. I want you to. Save them, Gabriel.  _ Sam nudged against him, pushing emotions against the edges of his grace. Willingness, and hope, and so much trust it took his breath away.

 

He wouldn’t take much, Gabriel decided. Just enough to stop himself from being completely drained. Gently, his grace wrapped itself around Sam’s soul, pressing his own gratefulness against him, hoping against hope that the comfort might brace him against the pain. He took one long tendril and formed the very tip of it into a needle-sharp point, but then he paused, hyper aware of the part of himself that was now a glimmering weapon, designed to hurt, designed to cut and dig in and in and  _ in-  _

 

He swallowed back bile. He could feel his grace start shaking, his very being rebelling against doing this to Sam. But Sam’s soul nudged against him again, no doubt feeling his reluctance, urging him on. Gabriel tried to relax for him. He took a deep, steadying breath. 

 

He dove in.

 

They both flinched as his grace sank through the outer layers of his soul, right into the burning, stormy heart of him. But to his surprise, after the initial flash of pain, the soul’s agitation calmed. Then Gabriel’s surprise turned into shock. Instead of flinching back or trying to escape, the soul reached out, latching on, grasping him gently back instead of trying to retreat like any other soul would have done. 

 

**_Sam?_ **

 

But Sam wasn’t listening. His soul grasped Gabriel tighter, pulling him further in, then tensed. Gabriel had one second to realise what Sam’s soul was doing and brace himself before a tsunami of energy lit up his grace with light.

 

There was so  _ much _ . It was like sticking his fingers in a plug socket, like drowning in a river in spate. The energy conducted through him like electric current as he directed it, pouring into the weakened bodies around them, healing and repairing. A flood of grace swept through the hospital like a tidal bore, slowly losing strength as it went. Gabriel desperately tried to limit how much energy he was taking, but he was having to draw more and more heavily on Sam’s soul until by the time he had healed the last soul in the place there was barely a trickle of him left. Sam’s soul somehow glowed even brighter in response, pressing unexpectedly closer, the energy eagerly flowing out of him and into Gabriel in a glowing river, buoying him up. They were so  _ close _ ! He could almost hear Sam’s thoughts as though they were his own- it felt almost like touching his brothers’ minds in heaven, before they all turned cold and closed themselves off from one another. No, even closer than that. It almost felt like a Bond.

 

Hang on, he realised with a jolt of alarm- he  _ could  _ feel Sam’s thoughts! A thousand impressions pressed against him, through him, surprise and excitement (there should be fear, Sam should be afraid! Why wasn’t he afraid?) And instead of trying to close himself off again, trying to separate their minds like he should have done, Sam was laying himself out like an offering, showing Gabriel everything. Every tiny thought he’d ever had, every hope, every dream, every shame. He was so  _ warm _ . Still so hopeful, despite everything. And the feelings he had for Gabriel... 

 

A thousand conflicting emotions rushed through Gabriel, amazement and joy at being so close to someone after all these years, shock and pleasure that his feelings might actually be returned if he looked into Sam's soul closely enough, warring with insecurity and fear. Touching mind-to-mind was different, this was soul-to-soul. If he could see Sam, then Sam could see  _ him _ , all the darkness and selfish viciousness, all the cowardice. He suddenly felt vulnerable, too exposed. This was wrong! 

 

**_No! Get out!_ ** He panicked, frantically drawing back his grace, turning Sam out and slamming the floodgates shut behind him.

 

They thumped back into Sam’s body, Gabriel drawing a deep gasping breath before burrowing into the back of their mindspace, using the last flickers of his strength to build so many walls between them that Sam was barely visible. He couldn’t let that happen again!

 

Sam tried to follow him to the back of his own mind, waves of rejection and confusion and upset that Gabriel could feel even through the barriers.  _ What the hell, Gabe? What was that? Why did you stop it? _

 

**_Bonding is permanent! I thought we agreed to keep our thoughts separate?_ ** He snapped, lashing out. How could he have been so stupid? Bonding another being, especially a human, was incredibly dangerous! There had been a reason that heaven had outlawed it. And to do it without Sam’s express permission, without him knowing exactly what he was signing himself up for… he shuddered at the thought.

 

Sam recoiled, hurt, taking the warmth of his soul away, and Gabriel almost called after him in regret. He was so tired from the healing, and his grace was cold. But it was his own stupid fault, he berated himself. He should never have taken Sam’s energy, and then this never would have happened! He should never have even touched the outside of his soul in the first place! He should never have crossed that boundary! He’d been too much of a coward to tell him to stop, too selfish to explain what it was they were doing in case he  _ did  _ stop, and now he’d surely ruined anything that might have been between them.

 

He was barely aware of Sam talking with their brothers, the motion of them walking back to the impala. His exhaustion quickly forced him down into a restless sleep, his grace shivering behind his walls.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil giggles*


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, work delayed this chapter, and I have a feeling that's gonna be a recurring theme, sorry. I'll still try and get out two a week!

 

Sam blinked his eyes slowly open as the impala slowed and rumbled over an uneven section of parking lot. He grimaced where he was lying across the back seats, rubbing the heel of his hand against his face, and peered blearily up through the window at the neon motel sign. So Dean had decided to stop for the night after all, then. He was glad; they were all still exhausted from defeating Pestilence, and none of them more so than Gabriel.

 

He winced slightly at the thought. He’d better check on him. Hesitantly, he extended a tendril of thought towards the tightly-coiled presence walled in at the back of his mind, and gave it a poke.

 

The archangel barely moved when Sam prodded him, his grace stirring slightly behind the thick walls before falling back to sleep. Sam contemplated trying to wake him up, but his grace was still almost as low on power as when he’d first been stabbed. Better to let him sleep. Especially since Sam was appreciating having some time to himself after what had happened back at that hospital. Time to think it over.

 

_ Bonding _ , Gabriel had told him. Well, had snapped at him, really, but Sam had seen his mind a second before and knew that the heated words came from fear, not anger. Like what they had shared was something that Sam should have been afraid of. But Sam could have never been afraid of it- it was Gabriel, in his purest, simplest form. 

 

For one glorious second, they had connected in a way they never had before. Despite having shared a body for a month now, Sam had always kept himself carefully separate, always felt the edges where he ended and Gabriel began as solid, immutable things. But before Gabriel had recoiled from his soul, those walls had broken down, the edges of their minds mixing and blurring. 

 

Maybe it should have terrified him. Gabriel’s mind was vast, so much larger than his own. It would be so easy to be engulfed and lost. But all that he had felt was safety and curiosity.

 

And he had been able to see Gabriel’s thoughts so clearly, as clearly as his own. A writhing morass of loneliness and betrayal, all wrapped up in his memories of his family and the pagans. Regrets and fears, insecurity and uncertainty covered with bluster and false confidence. 

 

But most shocking and prominent of all were his thoughts about Sam. Because while Sam had known that they had made some sort of progress between them since those first few fraught days, he had always had the nagging voice inside his head that told him that Gabriel was only tolerating him. At best he had thought Gabriel might consider him a friend. Sam’s stupid little crush was his own problem, and he had been fully prepared to keep it to himself for as long as possible.

 

Not in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined Gabriel might reciprocate those feelings.

 

But it was undeniable; Gabriel actually  _ liked  _ him. He more than liked him. The memories of Sam and all their conversations had been cradled right at Gabriel’s heart, wrapped in the warmth of possessive affection and not a little bit of heat. A lot of it grudging and covered in self-denial, but all of it there, all real. Sam would have tried to deny it to himself as well, but the evidence was undeniable. Somehow he knew that deceit would have been impossible with as close as they were.

 

Sam had felt it. He had reached out towards him. How could he not, after feeling that?

 

And then Gabriel had recoiled, and all of that was gone. 

 

Sam blinked up at the roof of the car, the hurt still aching under his breastbone. Maybe all this time to think on it alone wasn’t good. Maybe he was reading too much into the situation. But the more Sam had thought about it, the more hurt he had felt. Especially when he had chased after the archangel and found him desperately building walls, determined to keep Sam out no matter how low on energy he was. 

 

It would have been so easy to block Gabriel out in return. To react in anger and pain. So yes, he was glad that Gabriel was still asleep so that he’d had time to get over that knee-jerk rejection. Sam had had time to mull over the whole event as Dean drove. He had thought back to the other emotions he’d seen in Gabriel. The self-denial and insecurity, the guilt even. So was it any wonder, really, that having Sam suddenly see all of his emotions might make him panic? Gabriel hadn’t been ready to share that with Sam, and even if Sam was glad he’d seen it (because he knew for a fact that Gabriel was almost as bad as Dean so the chances of him finding out otherwise were next to none), what they’d almost done wasn’t something Gabriel was anywhere near ready for. Hell, after thinking about it, Sam wasn’t ready for that either. Gabriel had been right to pull them apart- he’d had no idea what he was letting himself in for.

 

But even with the rejection- Gabriel  _ felt something _ for him.

 

Sam knew he was grinning stupidly up at the ceiling, but he couldn’t help it. Just the thought that Gabriel returned his feelings made warmth and butterflies flutter in his stomach. 

 

When Gabriel woke up, they would have to do something about it; he refused to be like his brother. He and Gabe would talk, and they’d get all of this sorted out, because they couldn’t leave all their unspoken words hanging over them.

 

But was confronting him about it the right way to go about it? Should he wait until Gabriel came to terms with his own emotions? Maybe knowing Sam returned them would help with that...

 

He was jolted out of his thoughts as Dean reversed into a bay and the engine died. Without the constant movement, he was suddenly aware of just how uncomfortable he was. He shifted a little. His back was slightly cramped, his knees digging into the seats in front of him where he was curled on the back bench, and the discomfort was nagging at him to get up. Just before he did, however, he realised that Cas and Dean were murmuring in the front seat, their heads close together, silhouetted against the motel sign. He quickly closed his eyes again.

“You know someone has to go, Dean.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it has to be you, though.” His brother’s voice was gruff and unhappy, a little muffled by the seat between them. “You just barely woke up from being banished, and you’re out of grace. Why can’t Gabriel go?”

 

“I’m not helpless, grace or no grace,” Cas reminded him sharply. “And Gabriel must stay and hunt for Death, once he has recovered. He expended a lot of energy to heal those people. More than I thought he even had.”

 

“Then why can’t Bobby find another hunter to deal with the croatoan virus or the contaminated vaccine or whatever? I know he’s got contacts to help him deal with this crap.”

 

“And you know that they’re already busy fighting the apocalypse on other fronts. Dean, it makes sense. I will go and assist Bobby in dealing with the Croatoan. You stay and hunt for Death. We will have limited time now that we have played our hand. Lucifer will already know about Pestilence’s loss, and he will probably have put together our plan for the other rings. We can’t afford to lose any time. We need to find Death before Lucifer can order him to start his destruction.”

 

The car was quiet, the only sounds the settling of the car and the tapping of Dean’s fingers on the steering wheel. A cramp locked up the muscle of Sam’s calf. He bit the inside of his lip to stay quiet.

 

Finally, Dean huffed. “Okay. Okay, I get it. That doesn’t have to mean I like it.”

 

“Me neither.” Cas hesitated, then more stiltedly, “I’m glad you didn’t give in to Michael. I thought I… I thought I might have lost you. That  _ we  _ might have lost you.”

 

“Like I was gonna turn my meatsuit over to that asshat.” Dean hesitated, must have seen something in Cas’ face, because he sobered. “I thought I lost you too. I’m… I’m  _ so  _ glad you’re not dead. You… you mean so much to me. I don’t know… Cas… please. Don’t do that again.” Sam suddenly felt uncomfortable with his eavesdropping. He wasn’t meant to be hearing this.  

 

“I’ll endeavor not to.” There was an upturn in Cas’ voice instead of the usual dry sarcasm, like he was smiling at Dean with the fondness which Sam had only ever seen the angel direct at his brother. The seat creaked and Sam knew that they were leaning towards one another.  

 

Nope, nope, nope! Sam couldn’t stand the awkwardness or his cramping legs any longer. He stretched with a theatrical groan, heaving himself upright. He made sure to yawn widely as Dean and Cas sprang apart. 

 

“Hmmmm, wha’ time is it? Where are we?”

 

Dean sling an arm over the back of the seat and turned, a smirk not quite covering how flustered he was. “Enjoy your beauty sleep, princess? How’s your lodger?”

 

“He’s fine, just asleep still.”

 

Dean sniffed. “The longer the better.” He pushed out of his door as Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance. Sam scooted out as well, groaning in the cool evening air as his joints cracked. Dean had the boot open and thrust their bags into his hands before he could even finish stretching. “You go get us set up in the room, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

 

Dean was going? Sam frowned at him. “Where are you going? You’re not going to a bar now, are you?”

 

Dean turned to grin at Cas walking towards them from the other side of the car. “‘Course not. Cas is gonna go help Bobby, apparently he’s got a croatoan situation is all. He’s got it under control,” he reassured hastily, “the old man just wants some backup.”

 

“Cas is going?” Sam asked with innocent dismay.

 

Cas turned to look at him with so much earnestness it almost made Sam feel guilty about eavesdropping. “I expect we shall see each other again soon, Sam. Good luck with finding Death while I’m gone. And be careful with Gabriel; he might be one of my brothers, but so far that has not proven to be a ringing endorsement.” 

 

Sam smiled, a little sad that Cas’ family had let him down regularly enough that he even felt he felt the need to warn him. Hopefully he’d warm up to Gabriel if they spent more time around each other. “Don’t worry, I will. Good luck, Cas.” He reached out and drew Cas’ stiff, trenchcoated form into a hug. “Take care out there, yeah?”

 

“I… I will.” Cas’ voice rumbled uncertainty next to his ear, his hands hovering, and Sam thumped him on the back and withdrew before things could get awkward. 

 

“Come on, Cas, we’re gonna miss your bus!” Dean was already climbing into the driver’s seat. Sam waved them off as they pulled away, only letting his hand drop when they pulled out onto the main road. With Gabriel asleep, he suddenly felt rather alone. He sighed in the quiet, hefting the bags onto his shoulders and heading for the front desk.

 

…

 

The key clicked in the lock and Sam shouldered the door open, dumping Dean’s bag on his bed before throwing himself onto the other one with a groan, bouncing gently. A spring from the sagging mattress tried to stab him in the back but he ignored it. He kicked off his shoes without getting up and lay there, half expecting himself to fall asleep. He wanted to. He was tired enough 

 

But the motel room was too silent and his mind was too loud. There were too many complicated things swirling around his brain, questions with no easy answers, and it was infuriating and exhausting. How were they going to get Lucifer into the cage? Where was Death and why hadn’t they been able to find any omens for him yet? Should he confront Gabriel about both of their feelings?

 

But before he could make any decisions, there was a stirring in the back of his mind.

 

_ Gabriel? _

 

The archangel stirred again, shifting uncomfortably, and Sam caught a hint of fear from him through the thick shields.  _ Gabriel, can you hear me? _

 

No answer. He must have been dreaming. Shit. Could archangels even get nightmares? 

 

Apparently, they could. The fear grew, and with a sudden surge, Gabriel’s still-sleeping grace pushed against the confines of Sam’s vessel.

 

“Woah!” Sam jolted upright in alarm, clutching at the blankets under him as a bulb overhead buzzed warningly. It hadn’t hurt as the energy rushed through him, but he could already feel Gabriel’s grace charging up for a bigger, more destructive strike. He had to wake him up before Gabriel subconsciously bulldozed the damn motel!

 

Quickly, he screwed his eyes shut, concentrating inwardly.  _ Gabe, you need to wake up!  _ He shoved at the archangel’s bulk, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He didn’t want to try and force entry into Gabriel’s thoughts, given how Gabriel had reacted to the invasion of his privacy earlier, but what if he didn’t have a choice?

 

The grace surged again, rushing through Sam’s soul in a blast of golden power. The room shook with a rumble, dust shaking itself down from the ceiling, and there was a surprised yell from the room next door. Sam knew he had to act. Taking a deep breath, he crashed through the outer barriers and dove into Gabriel’s dreams. 

 

Dreams swirled around him like smoke, strengthening and solidifying until he was standing on solid ground. The room was familiar, but Sam couldn’t place it until he caught sight of the scene in front of him and his eyes widened. It was the ballroom. The Elysian Fields Hotel. Gabriel and Lucifer were circling each other, but this time around, Sam could see their wings. He was mesmerised. Lucifer’s stained, ragged feathers were fluffed out, primaries sharp as they arched and spread in aggressive display, which would have held Sam’s attention if he hadn’t been so focused on Gabriel’s.

 

The golden feathers were so familiar that he could almost feel them stretching out from his own back. They were hackled and raised too, trying to be aggressive, but something about their posture was more distressed than violent. More afraid than looking for a fight. 

 

“You know you can’t beat me, little brother. You don’t dare even fight me. Not if you want your little human friends to live.” 

 

Gabriel  _ whimpered _ . Even from this distance, Sam could see his hand shaking on his blade. His emotions permeated the air. Gabriel knew how this was going to end, and he was terrified. 

 

Sam couldn’t let this continue. He stepped forwards. 

 

“Stop!”

 

The scene juddered to a halt. Lucifer looked at him with surprise. Gabriel whipped around, staring at Sam in disbelief. “Sam! What are you doing here? Run!”

 

The nightmare wearing Gabriel’s brother’s face smiled a horrible smile. “Samuel Winchester. How nice of you to join us!”

 

Sam ignored it. “This is just a dream, Gabriel! He’s not real! Take us out of here!”

 

Gabriel was breathing faster, his eyes wide and panicked. “I can’t! I can’t!”

 

Lucifer laughed, walking up behind Gabriel to rest cold hands on his shoulders. “Oh, this one’s  _ special _ , isn’t he? Look at that beautiful soul. How could any archangel resist that?” Gabriel was frozen, his eyes on Sam. Sam tried to move towards him, to grab his arm and snap him out of it, but he was stuck, just as helpless. The shade of Lucifer was gleeful, and as Sam watched, it’s features slowly bubbled and morphed until he was staring with horror at a mirror image of his own face. “Yes, of course you were going to fall for Sammy-boy, Gabriel. You always were the softest of us. You loved them right from the moment Dad created them, don’t you remember? Those squishy little beings, so full of light. They made you feel so big, didn’t they? So strong? Nothing like your big brothers. So much bigger than you, so much more powerful. Do you even remember us properly still, Gabriel? Or have you buried us like you buried the rest of heaven? Are you running even from your own mind?” The Lucifer-Sam-thing chuckled, resting its chin on Gabriel’s trembling shoulder, its wings arching around to trap him. “You’re a coward because it’s the only way you can survive! There was never any other option for you but to run and hide. Dad made you to run fast, and that’s what you did. That’s all you’re good for.”

 

“Don’t listen to him!” Sam struggled, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. 

 

“Have you admitted it to him yet?” The Lucifer-thing was still ignoring him, focusing on Gabriel. Gabriel closed his eyes in defeat. “No? Oh, little brother, shame on you. I know that I would stoop that low, but you? I thought you were meant to be the righteous one here.” The nightmare turned its dark grin on Sam. “Look at him, all innocent. So naive. He hasn’t told you what it means when you touch minds, had he? When he wraps his dirty, guilty little thoughts around you like he’s sticking his tongue down your throat!”

 

Oh. So maybe the soul touching had been… more than he’d thought it was. Sam thought back to those memories with new eyes and felt warmth flush through him. 

 

Gabriel’s face was twisted with shame. “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry!”

 

Sam gaped for a moment before he found his voice. “It doesn’t matter, Gabe! You saw that, right? When you were- when you were in my mind? I’ve wanted to do that again since time we did it!” And he had known when it was happening that whatever they had been doing, it had very little to do with lust- Sam didn’t care if it had meant something else to angels, between them it had been about caring, and comfort. He knew that and he felt a rush of determination that he wasn’t going to let this Lucifer shade drive this between them. He raised his chin. “I don’t care! It doesn’t matter!”

 

“But it does! Because you might have minded. I should have- I should have told you.”

 

Sam tried to interrupt, but there was suddenly something between his teeth, gagging him. The Lucifer-thing’s hands dug into Gabriel’s shoulders. “Yes, that’s it. You know it in your heart. Too much of a coward to tell him. Too stupid to do anything about it. Too  _ selfish _ .” Sam saw Gabriel’s breath hitch as his shoulders hunched, and he yanked furiously against the forces restraining him.

 

“But you know the most tragic thing? Loving him is going to be the death of you, Gabriel.” Lucifer’s voice dropped into a soft whisper. “And your selfishness is going to kill him too. And then the rest of them. A whole world, gone. All because you couldn’t let one little human go. Don’t you ever learn your own lessons, Gabriel?” There was a shimmer of metal in Lucifer’s hand, a blade sliding out of his sleeve, and Sam had a moment of uncertainty. Lucifer couldn’t hurt them here, right? This was a dream?

 

But it was an archangel’s dream, and Sam was only human, so who knew? Maybe he could. 

 

Lucifer smiled knowingly, as though he was reading Sam’s thoughts from behind his eyes. He took a step away from Gabriel, towards Sam. He tensed, as though he was about to leap forwards. Sam struggled desperately. There was a flash of movement, and Sam knew in that split second that Lucifer was coming for him. Reason left him in a surge of panic, but there wasn’t even time to raise his hand to defend himself. This was it, he was going to die-

 

But Lucifer never reached him. Because suddenly, Gabriel was in the way.

 

He appeared in front of Sam, facing him. Sam shared a split second wide-eyed glance and then Gabriel jolted forwards, towards him, catching himself with his hands on Sam’s biceps.

 

They both looked down. 

 

The silver tip of the blade emerged right from the centre of Gabriel’s chest. As Sam watched, the maroon of Gabriel’s shirt started to deepen, the terrible dark stain spreading to his jacket, soaking through his clothes.

 

“Gabriel! NO! NO!”

 

Gabriel slumped forwards, his legs giving out, and Sam took his weight, hands clutching at him. The scene started to dissolve around them, but Sam couldn’t look away from the desperate amber of Gabriel’s eyes.

 

Then the fog cleared, and to Sam’s relief the nightmare was gone, the cathedral appearing around them. He dragged Gabriel towards the nearest pew and knelt in front of him, scrabbling at Gabriel’s shirt, pushing aside the layers. But there was no blood soaking the clothing. The stains had vanished, and when Sam got to skin there was no open wound. Just a scar, still angry and bruised, but healed. Whole. 

 

Sam let his breath leave him in a shaky sigh, pressed his palm to Gabriel’s chest so that he could feel the slow rise and fall of his breath, the fast, heavy thumping of his heart. He felt Gabriel huff, and then there was a hand resting hesitantly on his head, gaining confidence to wind through his hair. “It was just a dream, Sam. Just a nightmare.”

 

Sam wiped a trembling hand over his mouth, still almost feeling the blood slippery on his fingers. “I wasn’t sure… I thought he might still…”

 

“It wasn’t him. Not really.” 

 

“For half a second I thought he might have…”

 

“He didn’t. Sam, come on, look at me. I’m fine.”

 

Sam blinked his eyes open, looking up. Gabriel was leaning forwards, his hand still cradling the back of Sam’s head, light from the stained window behind him almost making a halo behind his head. Gabriel brought the other hand up, cupping the side of Sam’s face, his palm rough and warm. He smiled at him, the small genuine one that Sam had only ever seen directed at him when Gabriel thought he wasn’t looking, all those times in dreams of long-forgotten places. “Fine, see?” 

 

Sam’s panic had turned into something hot and hard and desperate lodged in his and throat. It drove him up, reaching forwards to pull Gabriel closer. He couldn’t help himself, he had to reassure himself that Gabriel was alright, here with him. He had just enough time to see Gabriel’s eyes widen again before he pressed their mouths together. It was impulsive, desperate; Gabriel was frozen, and for a second, Sam was afraid that Gabriel might push him away.

 

But then Gabriel was kissing him, pulling him closer and turning the kiss gentle. Sam melted against him, the last remnants of his panic evaporating.

 

Finally, they drew back from one another. Sam smiled, and Gabriel smiled back, but his amber eyes were still roving over Sam’s face in indecision, like he was looking for something. Sam thought he knew what Gabriel’s internal debate might be about.

 

“I know what you saw in my mind. And what I saw in yours. What we both want.” His voice sounded loud in the swallowing silence of the cathedral. Gabriel’s eyebrows drew together, quirking. 

 

“That doesn’t mean we should.”

 

Sam smiled wryly. “Neither of us are that good at resisting things that we want.”

 

Gabriel chuffed but didn’t deny his words, hands still on Sam’s shoulders. “I guess we’re both impulsive and reckless like that, huh?”

 

“Looks like.” Gabriel hesitated, then grimaced. “On that topic, I really am sorry about the… uh… soul-kissing.”

 

“And I told you, I don’t care. I liked it.” He lent in close, close enough to see the caramel ring around Gabriel’s pupils, and grinned. “But your technique was sloppy. I’d say you could use some practice.”

 

Gabriel laughed, the complicated emotions clearing from his face to leave only mischief and warmth. The light in the cathedral brightened, a beam of light falling through the central window to illuminate them. Had his eyes always been that golden? This time, it was Gabriel who lent in, his hands tangling in the back of Sam’s hair, and there was no hesitation when Sam returned the kiss. 

 

…

 

When Sam woke, he was still smiling, and Gabriel’s grace was pressed up warm against his mind. A tendril of thought reached out, caressing him, and he felt himself reach back, coiling up together. What had they ever been afraid of?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOH FINALLY


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, internet went down, again. Deep apologies! So here we are, a nice big chapter tonight, and I'll be posting another tomorrow!

 

Sam was doing it again.

 

Dean watched him from the lumpy embrace of the latest motel bed as Sam paused over his duffel. His long fingers twitched, tightening and loosening reflexively on the item of clothing he was holding. He smiled at some unheard joke, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way they only did when he was genuinely amused. Then he started unpacking again.

 

This was a new development. He had first noticed it the morning after he had dropped Cas at the bus two days ago. Dean hadn’t seen Sam smile like that for years- at least two years, in fact. Not since he went to hell. All the way up until about two weeks ago. And suddenly Sam’s smiles were back again, shyly creeping onto his face, hesitant but more real by the day.

 

Dean considered it, looking closely at his brother’s body language. He prided himself on knowing exactly what Sammy was thinking- he’d known the kid since he was born, so it shouldn’t be too much effort to solve this mystery. 

 

His tall body was loose and relaxed, broad shoulders not curled in on themselves like he always did when he was stressed. It was a habit he’d developed after puberty, when his suddenly lanky limbs had made him tower over everyone in the room. It was a habit that Dean had worried a lot about, to be honest. Sam had done it a lot around the angels, shrinking in on himself, folding himself away like he didn’t think he deserved to be noticed. Like he was making himself a smaller target. But now he was standing at his full height, but not aggressively. More like he was finally comfortable in his own skin. 

 

Don’t get him wrong, it was a good change to see Sam smile. Dean had hated seeing Sam so obviously hurting this last year. Words weren’t his forte. He would never have known what to say to mend what was broken between them, so he had pushed it down and lied to himself, ignoring the bubbling guilt. He had felt helpless around Sam’s anger and depression, pressing all of those emotions into anger of his own. Not the best solution, he admitted to himself ruefully. So he knew that, unfortunately, it wasn’t his own actions that had caused this new, happier Sammy. And the apocalypse was still ongoing, which would have been enough to make any ordinary person miserable. Hell, they’d spent the last two days actively hunting Death himself.

 

So what had changed? What was so incredibly  _ good  _ in Sam’s life that it could overcome the end of days?

 

And suddenly, like a beam of light coming through the grimy motel curtains, he knew exactly what was going on. He burst out laughing. Sammy looked up from his duffel, surprised.

 

“Something funny, Dean?”

 

“Yeah, your face.”

 

Sam grimaced at him, turning back to his clothes, but it was a superficial kind of annoyance tempered with fondness; the type of look that Dean had thought, at some points in the last year, he’d never see aimed at him again. Then Sam’s face did it again, his eyes softening and going far away.

 

Dean propped himself up on the bed with an arm behind him, using the other to point at Sam in excited accusation. “No no no, don’t you go looking like that!”

 

“Like what?”

 

“That damn puppy-eyed look, you know it! I’ve seen you making it before. Don’t try and deny it, someone’s got a cruuuush!” 

 

Sam’s face flushed almost violently red. Dean couldn’t resist the teasing, especially because of the bitchface it earnt him. He gave Sam his best shiteating grin. “Sammy, I know your face. So come on, who is it? You meet a girl?” Sam hesitated, looking shifty, eyes darting around the room like he was searching for an escape hatch from the conversation. “Or a guy? I don’t judge. Come on, Sammy, you can tell me!” He cajoled. Inside, though, his head was spinning. It wasn’t exactly like Sam to pick up girls. Where had he found the time to go out and have anyone catch his eye? They hadn’t been to a bar in weeks. They’d barely been to the store! And how did that even work with Gabriel possessing him? It was awkward, surely? No wonder he hadn’t let it slip to Dean if the damn archangel was already ribbing him about it-

 

Sam’s face contorted into a grimace, like it always did when he was having a conversation inside his head. “It’s… it's not that simple, Dean!”

 

“Sure it is! Come on, who’s your crush? Oh god, please tell me it’s not Rowena.”

 

“No, it’s not Rowena.”

 

“Although I wouldn’t object,” Gabriel leered through Sam’s mouth before his expression went through gymnastics as Sam wrestled the control back off him. “Gabe!”

 

But Dean wasn’t really paying attention to the squabble. He frowned in confusion, because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that his initial analysis was right; they really  _ hadn’t  _ been around anyone long enough for Sam to start crushing on them. It was just them, alone in motels or at Bobby’s place. But what else could it be? That look of fondness on his face that he’d seen when Sam thought he was alone in the room… 

 

But Sam wasn’t ever alone anymore, was he? Something horrible occurred to him. That couldn’t be it, could it? Surely not. Dean covered his face with his hands. “Oh no. No, no, no. Please tell me I’m wrong.” Sam looked at him in trepidation. “It’s him, isn’t it? It’s Gabriel.” 

 

Sam was somewhere between blushing virgin and a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “No!” He denied on little-brother instinct. Then he grimaced. Dean could almost hear Gabriel’s loud objections. “So maybe I am,” Sam said mutinously, “Maybe we are!”

 

Sam. Sam and Gabriel. What the fuck? Knee-jerk big-brother anger and protectiveness had Dean scowling. “Sam, what the hell, man? What about this situation seems like it’s a good idea?” 

 

Sam’s expression reminded him of when he’d been a teenager, all pissy rebellion. “Do you really think we haven’t thought about that, Dean?” 

 

“No, it doesn’t sound like you’ve thought about it at all, otherwise you’d see how  _ completely insane _ this is!” Dean ignored Sam’s affronted expression. “We’re in the middle of the apocalypse here! And this is  _ Gabri el _ _!_ You know, the one who trapped you in the Mystery Spot? The one who stuck us in TV land? The one who, up until two months ago, was all for us becoming fucking meatsuits for his dickbag brothers! That Gabriel!”

 

“He’s not like that, Dean!” Sam was nearly yelling, going from annoyed to angry. “He’s changed! You haven’t even bothered to get to know him!”

 

“I know all I need to know about him! Why do you even trust him?”

 

“That’s my call to make!” Sam shouted at him, face going red, temper escalating too fast.

 

“Listen to yourself, Sam! You sound like a freakin’ Stockholm victim! Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s a manipulative bastard! He’s using you!”

 

Sam froze up, his eyes going wide and every muscle in his body tense, and for a second Dean was convinced Sam was going to punch him. But something much worse happened. The light above them flickered. Dean instinctively looked up, seeing the bulb swinging back and forth as though there was a wind blowing through the room. Then the air stirred, the floor giving a muted rumble beneath his feet like a great beast that had been awoken. Dean looked back at Sam, who was still glaring, pinpricks of Gabriel’s light glowing from his pupils, hair swirling around his face. 

 

Dean felt a fresh surge of anger. How dare that archangelic dickbag try to intimidate him out of protecting his brother? “Gabriel I swear to god you stop this or I’ll find a damn angel blade and run it through your chest!”

 

But the glare that was fixed on him was one hundred percent pissed Sam. “This is all me, Dean! Gabriel isn’t doing a damn thing besides saving our asses at every opportunity, and you’ve done nothing but bitch at him for it since day one!” He seemed to get taller, his shouting reverberating supernaturally loud off the walls. “Gabriel isn’t fucking tricking me, or, or using me! So don’t you fucking dare accuse him of that! You don’t trust him because you haven’t bothered to get to know him, and you know what? He’s right. You’re out of order! And you’re not really worried about him screwing me over, you’re worried that I might be making my own choices for once! That I might have someone to rely on other than you!”

 

That stung. That more than stung. If the room hadn’t been shaking around them, Dean knew that they would have come to blows by now. He was seeing red, the angry words burning in his chest and spilling out of him in a hurtful river. “No, Sam, you know what? This is Ruby all over again. I didn’t think you were stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice, but I’ll be damned if I let you be taken in again!”

 

Sam froze, his red-hot anger suddenly freezing into something much worse. Dean had a second to regret his words when Sam spoke. “Get out.” The words were flat, terrifying in their emotionlessness. 

 

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You know what? That’s the first good idea you’ve had all fucking night. I’ll be back when you’ve come to your goddamn senses!” Dean slammed the door after himself, flinching at the sound of something shattering on the other side of it as he stalked towards the impala. He swung himself in, closing the door with a careful  _ clunk  _ behind him. 

 

He sat in the darkness of the car for a minute, fuming at the lights illuminating the lot, replaying the argument in his mind. Regrets were already starting to creep in at the corners, but he ignored them, smothering them with smouldering rage. With sudden violence, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel.

 

“Fuck!”

 

He breathed in deeply through his nose, gathering himself back together enough to drive. Gravel crunched under the wheels as he left, aching knuckles still clenched too-tight in the steering wheel. He had a bar to drink dry.

 

.o0o.

 

The silence in the room, and inside Sam’s head, was thick with awkward tension. Sam was still almost too angry to think straight, concentrating on not grabbing Gabriel’s grace again and accidentally burning the motel to the ground. 

 

Gabriel was huddled near the back of his mind. Sam had known that Gabriel hated conflict. After all, that was why it had taken him so long to join their fight. And, now that he thought about it, why he had tried to teach Sam the Mystery Spot lesson for so long from the sidelines, rather than confronting him directly. But he hadn’t thought that seeing himself and Dean argue would have much of an impact on a creature like an archangel.

 

But as soon as voices had been raised, Gabriel had been cringing back, trying to hide his bulk in the back of Sam’s mind in a way that had only fuelled Sam’s anger. 

 

Only when the anger-bright light of Dean’s familiar soul faded as he sped out of the parking lot did Gabriel emerge again. Sam stood in the middle of the room still, fists clenched. He remained there, frozen, even after Dean was out of sight, the tension building until it was unbearable.

 

_ He’s wrong, _ Sam said vehemently at the same time as Gabriel burst out with,  **_He’s right._ **

 

_ What!?  _ Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

 

Gabriel squirmed, obviously uncomfortable and upset.  **_You know Sam, I hate to say this, but… Maybe Deano’s got a point. Maybe it isn’t a good idea for us to pursue this right now._ **

 

_ What the hell are you on about, Gabe? _

 

**_You heard him! He’s got some good points. I haven’t exactly been kind to you in the past,_ ** he tried a half-hearted chuckle but the shame in it was painful to listen to.  **_And, even if we put aside all my less-than-stellar behaviour, the apocalypse is happening. I’m living inside your skin. Our timing could be better. As in, any time other than now._ **

 

_ When, then?  _ Sam asked, frustrated.  _ Look, Gabriel, for us, this life? It never lets up. It never gets better. I’ve got to make the most of the good things while I…  _ He took a deep breath.  _ I don’t want to lose this. Not when I’ve just found it. I don’t want to regret not even trying. _

 

Gabriel softened, warmth growing in his grace.  **_Oh, Sam._ **

 

_ And I think it should be up to me to decide what to forgive.  _ Sam continued. _ We’ve been over the mystery spot before. You’re not gonna do anything like that to me or Dean ever again, right? _

 

**_Obviously not,_ ** Gabriel said vehemently.

 

_ Then we’re good.  _ Sam swung himself into bed.  _ So Dean can go screw himself. I just hope he’s not too drunk to drive tomorrow.  _ He sighed in annoyance. 

 

He was surprised when Gabriel’s grace wrapped around him, wrapping him in warmth, melting away his anger like it had never been.  **_You’re better than I deserve, Sam Winchester._ ** Gabriel murmured. 

 

_ We’re gonna have to disagree on that.  _ Sam wished for a second that they were in separate bodies. He wanted to tug Gabriel against him, to kiss him, but he made do with pressing his soul closer. He'd have to wait for their dreams. They’d work this whole mess out. Somehow.

 

.o0o.

 

_ Gently does it,  _ Walt thought to himself as he picked the lock on the Winchesters’ motel door. He was trying to be delicate, but delicate jobs had never been his forte. 

 

He had been staking out the parking lot for them to return all day, and spent the previous two days and sleepless nights tracking him down before that. Damn Roy for dumping him to go hunt a vamp nest with Crevans. Couldn’t he see that there were bigger fish to fry than a few dozen peoples’ lives?

 

The long, boring wait was enough to make anyone impatient. Walt had planned to wait longer as well, until the early hours of the morning when both of them would be asleep, but then to his surprise he’d seen Dean storm out. He’d waited half an hour to make sure he was really gone, but Walt hadn't been able to let the chance of getting the younger Winchester alone go to waste. Things would go much more smoothly if he didn’t have to handle both of them at once.

 

He let out a breath as he felt the lock give. Putting away his tools he slowly stood, wincing as his knees popped, and drew the gun out of the back of his jeans. 

 

There were no lights on in the room, so Winchester was probably asleep. Perfect. He wasn't here for chit chat. He was here to do a job.

 

_ Here goes nothing. _ He turned the handle, mentally congratulating himself when the door swung open with barely a sound. He drew it closed again behind himself with a tiny  _ click. _

 

And then cursed when the bedside light came on. Damn it, he knew he should have waited longer until Winchester was definitely asleep!

 

“Dean? ‘S that you? Look, about earlier-” Winchester broke off in confusion when he saw the muzzle of the gun pointed at him. “Walt?”

 

Walt didn't reply. Whenever he had dreamed about this he had just shot Winchester in the chest, no words exchanged. But now that he was facing him, lingering rumours of the brothers and their daddy’s notorious reputation were circling through his brain, promising retribution for their fallen family members. 

 

“Walt,” Winchester was still staring at him cautiously, hands raised in surrender as he slowly rose to stand next to the bed. “You don't have to do this.”

 

Walt’s breathing sped up. His fingers clenched nervously against the trigger. “Don't try that bull with me. I shot you dead, and you came back. You're not human anymore. You're one of them things we hunt.”

 

Winchester opened his mouth, then shook his head. He wasn't even trying to deny it any more. “Look, I'm on your side. I'm trying to stop all this! Please, just put down the gun, we can settle this-”

 

“What? Put down my gun, as though you aren't going to try and kill me as soon as I do?” Walt snorted. “Like I'd believe that. As though I’d think you're actually on our side! How stupid do you think I am? You came back from the dead! What kind of unholy creature can survive being shot in the chest, huh? You tell me.” He cocked the gun, already anticipating the sweet thrill of the kickback. Certainty steeled his heart and stopped the trembling in his fingers. He would finish this thing once and for all. It was his destiny!

 

Winchester looked almost disappointed for a second, then Walt felt his eyes widen as Sam  _ changed.  _ Those strange eyes flashed with unnatural golden light. His body slouched then straightened, hands dropping to his sides and casually inserting themselves into his pockets. He cocked his head on the side and observed Walt with a small smirk, like he was an insect pinned to a board. 

 

“You're a real piece of work. Walt, isn't it?” His voice was different somehow, lighter and more mocking.

 

“What the hell you talking about?” Walt's hand tightened on the gun. Finally, Winchester was showing his true colours. It should have been a victory to know that he had finally gotten to it, but mostly it was just terrifying.

 

“Y’know, Sammy doesn't want me to kill you for some reason, so how about you-”

Winchester stepped forwards. 

 

Walt flinched. His finger reflexively squeezed the trigger.

 

There was a sharp report, and Winchester staggered back, a hole appearing in his flannel shirt. A hint of killing magic crackled around it. Walt had a second to celebrate. Then Winchester straightened, the bullet dropping to the carpet with a muffled  _ ping.  _ When he looked up, his eyes were a solid, furious, inhuman gold.

 

“Bad move.”

 

Walt yelped and stumbled back, then nearly screamed when he turned right into the hard mass of the other Winchester.

 

“What the hell is going on in here?”

 

Walt gaped, his eyes jumping between the two men as he backed away, terrified. He hadn't even heard the door open. “We killed you too! What the hell are you people?”

 

Dean snorted, dark humour glimmering in his eyes. “Told you we’d be back, didn't I?”

 

Walt’s brain was spinning. Why hadn't the gun worked? What the hell were they? Demons? Shifters? Something else? He raised the colt again with trembling hands and pointed it at Dean. “We should have burned your bodies while we had the chance!”

 

Sam seemed to get even taller, sucking the light and air out of the room as he loomed. He took another step forwards, teeth clenched and eyes burning, but Dean inserted himself between them. “Leave it, Gabe. He's not worth the energy it would take to smite him.” 

 

“Not even a little? Go on, you know he deserves it for what he did to-”

 

“Don't. He’s just an idiot.”

 

The Winchesters stared at each other for a long moment, as though they were communicating telepathically.  _ Who the hell was Gabe? _ A tiny part of Walt wondered. 

 

Finally, Sam huffed and shrugged out from under Dean’s hand, turning away. Like a man pointing a gun at his back wasn't even a threat.

 

Dean turned back to glare at Walt where he still stood, frozen. “You're damn lucky I'm too tired for revenge right now. Go on. Go!”

 

Walt’s breath sped. If he couldn't kill Sam he could at least get Dean. He started to aim the colt-

 

He was flying backwards through the air, slamming into a wardrobe which splintered into fragments as he cannoned into it. He crumpled to the floor, wheezing as the air left his lungs. He groaned, feeling blood start to trickle down from his throbbing forehead. Luckily, nothing important felt broken. 

 

Getting back up on shaky legs, he looked around wildly. Sam was slowly lowering his hand, the glow still fading from his eyes. His expression was terrifying.

 

“Get. Out.”

 

Walt didn't even remember making it to the door. He staggered out of the building, forcing his shaking legs to move as fast as he was capable of. He had known it. He had told everyone, and his suspicions were true. They were both monsters, both of them.

 

Out in the parking lot he hesitated for a moment to catch his breath, to stop the shudder in his lungs. 

 

He had failed again, he thought bitterly. Should he go back? He shuddered at the thought of those awful golden eyes staring at him out of Sam Winchester’s human face and opened the car door. He'd leave them for now. Better to live to fight another day.

 

.o0o.

 

The motel door closed behind Walt’s fast-retreating back, the sound of a car squealing as it pulled away loud in the tense silence. Dean scowled before turning back to Gabriel, and from within his mind Sam suddenly, desperately wished they weren’t doing this just yet. He didn’t know if he had it in him to rehash this argument tonight. 

 

“The hell was that about?”

 

Gabriel shrugged at him, his grace tight and tense against Sam’s soul. “Just an assassination attempt. Which, apparently, isn’t even the first time for that asshole!” Sam winced internally. He knew that Gabriel had felt the memories that had rushed through him when he had realised that it wasn’t Dean returning to the room. The feeling of the shotgun shells ripping their way through his ribcage was still imprinted into his memory. 

 

“Well, at least he was less successful this time,” Dean muttered.

 

Gabriel was still growling. “He’s lucky I didn’t smite his ass on the spot.”

 

The awkward silence grew between them again. Dean’s face scrunched up, his jaw clenching like he was chewing on something bitter. Sam felt it as Gabriel’s patience wore thin. “Spit it out, Winchester.”

 

Finally, Dean looked up at him. “I’m… sorry. About what I said earlier.”

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to your brother, it’s him you were yelling at.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Why don’t you swap out so I can actually talk to him then?”

 

Sam moved forwards, already resigned, but Gabriel didn’t budge. He met Dean’s eyes and held them. “Don’t you dare hurt him, you hear me? Or I’ll make your life a living hell.” 

 

Dean’s face got even more sour, but he nodded.

 

Sam would have crossed his arms if he’d had control of them, unimpressed.  _ Are you done?  _

 

**_Yeah, I’m done._ ** Gabriel shot Dean one more dark glance before handing over control.

 

Sam took a deep breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Okay. Let’s get this out of the way.”

 

“What? No, I’m not gonna- this is an apology, Sam. I might be bad at them, but I’d like to think I’m not that bad,” Dean huffed out a half-hearted chuckle. Sam just crossed his arms, and his face fell again. “But I was thinking about what I said to you, and, shit,” Dean brought his hand up, pinching between his eyes, looking anywhere but at Sam. “I was out of order. Especially that shit about Ruby. That was uncalled for.”

 

“You’re right, it was. Gabriel’s nothing like that.”

 

Dean sighed sharply. “I know. I know. And I’m… I’m sorry. To both of you.”

 

Sam looked at him, taking in the lines over his brow that meant he had a stress headache, the coordination of his movements that said that he hadn’t had a drink, even though Sam had been convinced that he’d been headed straight to a bar when he left. It wasn’t often that Dean would admit that he was wrong, and Sam was as surprised as he was relieved. But maybe Dean was changing. 

 

This was a turning point. Sam could either decide to take Dean’s apology at face value, to accept it and take the olive branch, or he could turn him down. He knew what he would have done two years, maybe even six months ago. He would have held the grudge, kept the hurt in his heart until it turned bitter and drove a wedge between them.

 

But now, he could already feel himself softening. As far as he could tell, Dean really did feel bad about their fight. Why keep on fighting when there was no reason to? He loved his brother, even if he was frustrating some of the time. Alright, a lot of the time.

 

Maybe they were both changing, he thought. Learning. Maybe that was a good thing.

 

Gabriel reached out, a rush of warm grace pressing against him.  **_You know,_ ** he murmured,  **_sometimes you two still remind me too much of my brothers. But then,_ ** he interrupted quickly, before Sam could pull away in affront,  **_you do something like this and remind me that you’re not really like them at all. Forgiving each other was never something they did._ ** The warmth of his grace pressed Gabriel’s pride into him, his relief that Sam and Dean weren’t repeating his brothers’ mistakes. It made Sam smile as he looked up again.

 

“Alright.” He said. Dean perked up immediately, and Sam held up a hand to stall him. “I won’t just be able to forget the things you said, but I’ll let them go as long as you do.”

 

Dean was nodding vigorously, obviously relieved. “Thanks, Sammy. But, I still gotta ask…” Dean looked nervous. Sam pushed down the way his stomach sank. “Sam, I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick,” Dean hurried on to say, “It’s just… do you really think it’s a good idea when he’s inside you?” 

 

Sam grimaced at the unintentional mental image. Inside, Gabriel guffawed. Dean obviously rethought that sentence and groaned. “Look,” he barrelled on desperately, like he was trying to get far enough away from that mental image so that he never had to look at it again, “You two can’t get away from one another like this. What if it doesn’t work out? It’s not like you can go sulk in opposite ends of the room while you’re sharing a body. If you do get into a fight it’s gonna be nasty, and we can’t exactly afford to have half our apocalypse team sabotaging each other.”

 

Sam was quiet for a long minute. Dean spoke up nervously, “Sorry Sam, I didn’t mean-”

 

“No, you’ve got a point.” Sam shrugged one shoulder, eyes fixed on the dirty carpet. “Gabe’s worried about it too. That it’s a bad time, and maybe we should… not.” Gabriel’s grace drew back from him subconsciously at the reminder, flimsy barriers forming between them that they hadn’t bothered with these last few days. Sam closed his eyes, trying to pretend it didn’t feel like loss.

 

“No.”

 

Sam looked up at him. Dean looked as though he was having to physically force the words out. “Just. Do it. You know our lives, Sam, it’s never a good time. And, what the hell. Lucifer could find us and we could all die tomorrow.”

 

Sam started to smile, still weakly. “That’s what I told him.”

 

“It’s just, damn it Sam,” Dean looked him in the eye with what looked like great effort. “I might have trouble saying it sometimes, and it all comes out wrong, but I care about you, alright? And if he makes you happy, then go get him I guess.” Sam could feel the goofy smile spreading across his face. Dean suddenly pointed a finger at him. “But I don’t need to hear about it, alright? No sex in the impala! Whatever freaky shit you two get up to in, in dreams or whatever, I don’t need to know.” Sam laughed, Gabriel’s mirth warm inside, and Dean chuckled reluctantly with him.

 

There was one more thing Sam needed to make sure of, though. “So the fight. It wasn’t because Gabe’s… male?” Sam asked hesitantly.

 

For half a second, Dean’s face did something complicated. But then he waved Sam away, walking over to pick his phone up off the table. “Huh, no. ‘Course not. That had nothing to do with it, I don’t care what he’s got in his pants. Thought you knew me better than that, Sammy.” He turned back, raising an eyebrow. “And anyway, Gabe’s not really male, is he? I thought it was all superficial with angels.”

 

Sam sent Gabriel a questioning thought. Gabriel shrugged.  **_He’s right. We start off mostly neutral, some of us developed preferences in our vessels but not all of us. I was never too bothered about the whole gender thing, personally._ **

 

Sam nodded. “I’m glad you think that. I dunno, Dad was never the most accepting. I thought maybe...” Dean had always taken on their father’s ideals, tried to live up to his expectations in a way that Sam never had. While John had never exactly been violently homophobic, his disapproving looks at same-sex couples and the occasional casual slur had been more than enough to convince Sam to never discuss his sexuality with his father. Maybe Dean was finally starting to break himself out of John’s mold? As far as Sam was concerned, that could only be a good thing. Maybe part of it was Sam’s long-held suspicions that Dean wasn’t as straight as he pretended to be. “Do you ever wonder what Dad would have thought?” He asked. “Me and Gabriel, and you and-” he cut himself off, biting his tongue, but Dean didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Dad was never very…” Dean grimaced. “I’d like to think that he would have come around eventually, but especially Gabriel,” he huffed, looking at them, and then his face scrunched into something that was half amused and half horrified at whatever he was imagining. “You would have blown his mind, and not in the good way. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in the room for that one. Watching from a safe distance, maybe, but not in the room.”

 

**_I would have gone all out for your dear old Dad,_ ** Gabriel supplied.  **_Turned up in a bright yellow bubble car with fake eyelashes on the headlights. Rainbow tie-dye, gold body glitter, eyeshadow, the works. Ooh, maybe a big feather boa?_ ** Sam chuckled out loud at the mental image. Dean looked at him questioningly, and Sam explained. Dean barked a laugh.

 

“Damn, it might have been worth it, just to see the look on his face,” Dean said with a faraway expression.

 

“He would have had a heart attack right there on the spot,” Sam chuckled, chest feeling light. It was so wonderful to finally be able to have a conversation where Dean wasn’t constantly trying to defend their Dad. Gabriel gave him a mental wink, reaching out with his grace to cunjor matching rainbow feather boas around their necks. The brothers both took one look at each other, the multicolored feathers clashing with the leather and plaid, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

 

The only thing that stopped their howling in the end was the shrill peep of an incoming message from Dean’s phone. Dean wiped the tears out of his eyes as he picked it up. “I take back everything I ever said, Gabe. You can stick around.” Sam chuckled, slowly sobering. It felt so good to laugh with his brother again. It felt like it had been years. It probably had. Gabriel was laughing too, his grace warm and rippling.

 

Dean read down the message, his expression first brightening then falling again, the crease slowly reappearing between his eyes. “What is it?” Sam asked.

 

“Bobby’s just called, says they got the Croatoan all cleaned up, so that’s good. Cas is on his way back to us to help out with the Death situation, so that’s good too. And they’ve got new information. Says he might have a lead on Death. We thought it was Pestilence at first, but he was only attacking the hospitals.” Sam leaned in and frowned. It was a series of coordinates, and a list of deaths. Five dead in Maine. Thirteen dead in Nebraska. Nine in New Jersey. Thirty five in Florida.

 

**_Search it._** Gabriel spoke up. He nudged away Sam’s questioning thought. **_There’s something… they’re connected, I can sense it. There’s got to be a link._**

 

One by one, Sam put in the coordinates, squinting as google plotted them onto the map. There was no connection. The points were seemingly random.

 

**_No, they’re not._ ** Gabriel took over his hands, pulling up another tab and typing into the search bar. The location of every Biggerson’s popped up. Gabriel switched back to the first map, then to the second. Sam drew in a breath. The points were perfectly overlaid. He felt Gabriel’s grim satisfaction.  **_Bingo._ **

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that this story has very Venom-esque body sharing themes, and having seen it, you know what? They were right!

 

Gabriel pushed the swing door open. It was early enough that the place wasn’t too busy yet, the breakfast rush not yet started. That was good. He shot a quick smile at the tired looking waitress before taking a seat in the back corner, far from the other guests, taking care not to tough the sticky table. He could _see_ the bacteria growing on it. He settled into the booth, letting his eyes flick around and take in the place. No supernatural creatures in here. Well, apart from him, of course.

 

Sam looked around with him. Gabriel could feel his confusion.  _ Why Biggerson’s? How’s he doing it?  _

 

**_Biggersons restaurants all have a very similar layout,_ ** he explained, pulling up the menu in front of his face.  _**Every Biggersons in every state is almost identical. And not just the decor. It’s the atmosphere, the aura of the place. You walk through those doors, you could be in Tennessee, or North Carolina, or Texas. That makes the inter-dimensional energy of them practically the same. It connects them. You can bounce between Biggersons’ easy as pie once you’re tuned into the right frequency, it’s a great way to get around. Also, it makes it easier for me to find him. And if I’m right, and I hope I am, that’s exactly what Death wants.** _

 

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the atmosphere around them, letting a curious Sam feel what he was doing. The clink of coffee cups filled his head, the disgruntled thoughts of overtired people eating their greasy all-day breakfasts, the smell of bad, sour coffee. He reached out with his grace, spreading his wings, and with a beat they were off. But instead of flying like he usually did, he hovered, wings beating the air like a gigantic hummingbird. He flickered through location after location, searching. Biggersons, Biggersons, Biggersons- silence. There.

 

He stopped, thumping back into his seat. Slowly, he opened his eyes, dreading what he would find.

 

The restaurant was quiet as a grave. The faint sound of birdsong and traffic outside was muffled, and inside, nothing moved. The flourescents were off, the dim morning light falling on the bodies slumped at the bar, unmoving. It reflected off the pools of spilt coffee dangling from limp hands, the still-open eyes wide with one last surprise. Even the flies were dead.

 

There was only one thing moving in the entire place. Illuminated by the morning light, a man sat at one of the greasy Formica tables beside the windows. Although, ‘man’ was probably not the most accurate description.

 

Gabriel stood quietly, making his way between the tables. The being looked up as he approached.

 

“Gabriel.” Death’s voice was smooth, quiet. The understated confidence of something so powerful that it never had to truly fight. “Nice of you to join me.” 

 

His vessel was tall and thin, gaunt, exactly the same as the last time that Gabriel had seen him. And behind him, stretching out like a cape, was his true form, vast and terrifying, sucking in the morning light like a black hole. Gabriel felt Sam shrink instinctively to the back of his mind and ran a comforting tendril of grace over him as he sat down opposite, plastering on a cheery smile.

 

“Death! Long time, no see. How’s the family?”

 

Death gave him a dry look. “For the last time, Gabriel, the reapers and I are not related. They were a gift from your father to assist me in my work.” His dark eyes drifted over him, sharp as ever. “You have swapped vessels.”

 

Gabriel shrugged. “Thought it was time to switch it up. The old one had some holes in it.” He looked around, his eyes lingering on the bodies slumped across the tables. A waitress was sprawled across the aisle, one arm outstretched, the drink she had been carrying spilt across the floor. Sam cringed back from the sight. Gabriel tried not to let his own horror show on his face. “Speaking of your work. What did Biggerson’s ever do to you?”

 

Death prodded at the tray in front of him like he was dissecting a frog. “The fries are soggy and greasy. The burgers are sub-standard. And the less that is said about the milkshakes the better.” He dropped the fry back into the packet, wiping his hands against the napkin before he looked back up at Gabriel. “Your brother commanded me to kill. And I am in no position to refuse.” Death held his hands out across the table to demonstrate. His fingers were skeletal, the bones standing proud through the thin skin, blue veins visible. Something shimmered, and a pair of glowing cuffs appeared around his bony wrists.

 

Gabriel nodded, leaning back. “I thought so. This isn’t your style.”

 

Death nodded, going back to picking at his cold, soggy fries with obvious distaste. “I know what you’re here for.”

 

Without thinking about it, Gabriel snapped. The sagging burger was suddenly replaced by a triple decker that would have made Dean jealous, cheese oozing down the sides, the salad crisp and the patties fresh off the grill. The fries perked up as their crispiness returned. Death looked down with one eyebrow raised, then cocked his head with a thin smile, making the shadows fall even deeper under his cheekbones. “You were always the least unbearable of your siblings.”

 

“Of course I am, I’m adorable!” Gabriel lent forwards, bracing Sam’s overlong elbows on the table. “So how about it, huh? A favour, for old time’s sake?”

 

Death looked at him in amusement. “I was going to give my ring to you anyway.”

 

“You were?”

 

“Yes. It benefits both of us.” Death made a noise of approval around a newly-crispy fry. “I have no desire to kill anyone whose time has not come. It upsets the balance of the world when people die before their time. Without my ring, my powers are diminished, and the death toll will be kept to a minimum. The second advantage, of course, is the door it will provide to the cage. I know you have the other three.” Death looked at him over his burger. “Your brother has bound me. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” His eyes gleamed, too dark, too deep. Gabriel shivered inside. “I will give it to you on two conditions. One, that you will return it to me once this whole pesky business is cleared up. And two, that you unbind me, by any means necessary.”

 

Gabriel gulped. The only way to remove a binding like that was either for the caster to remove it voluntarily, or by their death. “But...”

 

Death’s eyes were as cold as black holes. “Any. Means. Necessary.”

 

They stared at each other. Gabriel nodded slowly with a heavy heart. He had no choice. “Alright.”

 

“Good.” Death straightened, holding out his hand, his ring poised between two fingers. Gabriel reached out, and Death dropped it into his palm. It was heavier than it looked. 

 

Gabriel took a deep breath. “Good. If that’s everything, I’ll be going.” He stood and started edging towards the door, stepping gingerly over the waitress’ body.

 

“If it is any consolation,” Death called after them. Gabriel turned back to him. “I think it will be as hard to persuade Lucifer to let me go as you are anticipating.” He smiled, as enigmatic as ever, then turned back to his burger.

 

Gabriel dithered for a second, then spread his wings, taking off, flying as fast as he dared back to the Biggerson’s they had started at. He let out a long breath from where he’d been holding it as life resumed around them again. Sam’s relief at seeing the waitress pouring a coffee refill was palpable. Gabriel looked down at his hand, rolling the ring between his fingers, watching it gleam darkly as it caught the light.  **_Well, that could have gone worse._ **

 

Sam obviously felt his emotions swirling in his grace, but they both knew there was nothing to be done about Lucifer. His brother was irredeemable. There was something missing in him that Gabriel didn’t know how to fix, and neither of them could let that cost them the world. Sam wrapped him with his soul, comforting him as best he could. Gabriel sighed, closing his eyes.

 

“Alright. Let’s get this over with. We need to tell your brother we’re heading back to Bobby’s; we’ve got an apocalypse to stop.”

 

.o0o.

 

“You actually got it? That’s Death’s ring?” Dean picked up the ring off the sticky motel table, holding it in front of his eyes to inspect it closely. “Doesn’t look like much.” Gabriel leaned forwards and snatched it back off him.

 

“Yup! One genuine apocalyptic ring, totally capable of levelling cities, so maybe less of the playing around with the weapons of mass destruction, yeah?”

 

Dean snorted, pulling the still-lukewarm burger out of the Biggerson’s bag. “Yeah, whatever. You want one?”

 

Gabriel felt his stomach turn as Sam thought about Death and his fries.  _ Hell no _ . Gabriel grimaced. “It’s all yours.”

 

Dean shrugged, taking an outsize bite, cheeks bulging around his mouthful. Gabriel ignored the spectacle. “When did you say Cassie was joining us again?”

 

Dean swallowed. “He should be here by tomorrow morning, so we can set off for Bobby’s then. I feel kinda bad, making him bus all the way out here only to head straight back, but he was already on the way.” Dean’s smile that had appeared at the mention of Cas faded. He licked his lips, clearing his throat. “So. Any ideas yet about how we’re gonna get your brother to take the leap?”

 

Gabriel felt Sam’s’s fists clench. He couldn’t help the reaction as his worries came back full force. He avoided eye contact, looking down at the ring, turning it over in Sam’s long fingers and letting silence answer for him.

 

He could feel Dean looking at him, but the man nodded. “Alright. So we gotta figure that out.”

 

There were a thousand possible things Gabriel knew that they could use as a lure. He had turned every single one of them over in his mind. But he knew in his heart that none of them would work. His big brother was too wily to fall for most of them. There was only one thing that might possibly do the trick, only one thing that Lucifer was so desperate for that he would do almost anything; Sam.

 

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not only could Gabriel not stay and help out without a viable vessel, he refused to even think of handing Sam over to his big brother’s clutches. The thought of Sam pitching himself into the Pit made him feel ill. 

 

Sam was thinking about it too, memories of Gabriel’s old vessel staring with sullen desperation back at him out of a ring of holy fire. He almost didn’t recognise who he’d been back in that warehouse. How had he ever told Sam and Dean to just give in? All because he had wanted it over with. So selfish. He wrapped Sam in an embrace.  **_I told you, not gonna happen._ ** He pointed to his past self. **_That’s not me anymore._ **

 

Gabriel could feel Sam’s gratitude. _ You weren’t selfish to want it to stop. And I’d do it, _ he said, his thoughts dropping quieter.  _ If it saved the world, I’d do it. _

 

**_I know you would. Your self-sacrificial streak is unhealthy. But it doesn't matter, 'cos it's not happening._ **

 

Sam gave him an internal eye roll, but their uneasiness remained as they watched Dean finish his burger, his eyes still locked on the ring in their hands. They still needed to lock Lucifer away, and they were running out of time to figure out how. 

 

What the hell were they going to do?

 

.o0o.

 

That night, Sam dreamed.

 

Michael and Lucifer were fighting. It should have been terrifying, seeing what he had dreaded for so long played out in front of him, but for some reason, Sam wasn't afraid. If anything, he was relaxed. Even anticipatory. There was no need to interfere. This was just getting good!

 

The archangels snarled as they circled each other, ready to spring. Sam (was he Sam? Or was he Gabriel?) was sitting on the sidelines, his own wings folded against his back, but his feathers were shuffling themselves excitedly as he waited for the action to start. He flicked his wigs to settle them. Seraphim were sitting next to (and on) his feet, watching them, enthralled. He heard a huff next to him and knew Raphael was rolling all his eyes at their brothers’ antics. 

 

**_Oh let them have some fun, Raph. They’re just playing. Loosen up a little!_ **

 

**_You didn't have to heal them last time Michael broke a wing and didn't want to tell Father._ ** Raphael was trying to sound stern, but Gabriel could read the reluctant amusement in the set of his wings. His brother was taking life (and his role as heaven’s healer) too seriously these days in Gabriel’s opinion. Maybe a little prank would be good for him...

 

Almost faster than thought, Lucifer leapt forwards, claws extended towards Michael’s throats. Michael whipped around at the last second. Their shrieks echoed around the Garden as they grappled with each other. Michael’s claws scrabbled ineffectually against the hard feather-scales on Lucifer’s chest and sides, and for a second Gabriel thought that Lucifer might win before Michael swung a wing up and clubbed Lucifer’s closest head with the wrist joint. Lucifer yelped, there was a scrabble and a struggle. The onlooking Seraphim cheered, chattering excitedly. 

 

Gabriel squinted, trying to see what was happening through the whirlwind of limbs and feathers. The dust cleared, and Lucifer was on the ground, Michael’s long teeth at his throat, holding one of his three pairs of wings twisted at a near-painful angle. Lucifer struggled for a second, then went limp, conceding defeat. 

 

Michael grinned with all his heads, drawing back to roar his victory, gleaming wings spreading wide. Lucifer grumbled, swiping half heartedly at him. Michael let him up, and Lucifer immediately propelled himself up and pounced on him, fierce and playful even though the sparring match was over.

 

**_Get off me Heylel you giant idiot! Aaaagh that tickles! Stop it! No!_ **

 

Gabriel laughed and the seraphim all cheered, rushing towards their older siblings in a wave of fluttering downy wings. Gabriel sat back and watched, grinning as they pounced on the larger archangels, demanding that they fly with them. Michael and Lucifer groaned as though it was an enormous burden, but there was amusement where their graces tangled together. Raphael waded through the crowd and joined them, eager to join in now that he had finally stopped fretting. 

 

**_What do you say? Shall we give the little ones a taste of the sky?_ **

 

Enormous wings spread, stretching skywards before beating down. The seraphs cheered, and those which had been too slow to climb on their backs were caught in the downdraught and scattered, tumbling heads over heels and shrieking in delight. 

 

Gabriel took off after his brothers, leaping into the air, streamlining himself to catch up. With the added weight of the seraphs clinging to them, it wasn't hard. Gabriel had always been the fastest. 

 

One of the boldest seraphim launched itself from Michael’s back, dark stubby wings beating so fast they blurred, but still not fast enough to keep itself in the air. Gabriel stooped and snatched it smoothly out of the sky with his talons, pulling back up to join his brothers in a few quick wing beats.

 

**_But I wanted to fly! I wanted to fly like you!_ ** Tiny Castiel protested, still trying to escape his hold.

 

Gabriel laughed.  **_Wait until you're older, squirt. You need to have proper feathers before you can fly!_ ** The seraph wriggled and protested as he mussed its downy feathers, making them all stand on end.

 

They drifted in to land, and Gabriel let the squeaking fledgling go as soon as he felt his talons dig into the soft grass of the Garden. Michael and Lucifer were already curled up to rest, Raphael tucked between them in their nest. Lucifer lazily lifted a wing as he approached, letting him snuggle closer. 

 

Sometimes, seeing his brothers like this, Gabriel forgot that they had been made for war. Michael and Lucifer could destroy planets with a squabble. Their teeth and talons could easily kill each other, but they never broke the skin, no matter how fiercely they sparred. 

 

Those early memories, the Darkness and their great battle, that had all been so long ago. When it was over, Gabriel remembered Lucifer asking their Father what He wanted them to do now. Father had looked back at him with an inscrutable expression and paused, and for one gaping second there was nothing. But then, thank heavens, He had said that they could use their powers to help Him to bring about The Plan. 

 

Sometimes, Gabriel wondered if He had originally had a Plan for them at all. If He had made them for anything other than helping Him to restrain His sister. If He just kept them around because He didn't know what to do with them when He’d moved on to designing His greater Creation. 

 

But those thoughts made him feel guilty and uncomfortable, and anyway, it didn't matter. Gabriel burrowed deeper into Lucifer’s side, feeling Michael’s fingers grooming his wings and Raphael’s breath warm on his shoulder. They might have been made as weapons, but they had learnt to love.

 

…

 

Sam sucked in a deep breath as his eyes opened. He stared at the ceiling, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. The warmth of the dream was slowly fading into bitter reality. 

 

_ Gabriel? _

 

Gabriel was curled into a small cold ball right at the back of his mind, the outside of his mind blank and distant and untouchable as a far-off star. 

 

_ Gabriel _ . He didn’t react when Sam brushed against him, settling an incorporeal hand on his shoulder in a poor attempt at comfort. Sam didn’t know how to ask what he wanted to ask, his half-formed wordless thought drifting between them. He had known that Gabriel had loved his brothers, and he had known that they had changed since those early days in heaven, but the more memory-dreams he saw the more he realised just how much that was true. How did that much love turn into hate? What had happened to the family that had lived in heaven?

 

**_It died the day Lucifer Fell._ ** Gabriel's mental voice was low, but it seemed to echo in the silence. Sam reached out for him, trying to coax him out from behind his shields. Gabriel emerged slowly, both reaching back and shying away from the gentle touch. **_Please… please, Sam. I don’t want to talk about it._ **

 

Sam stroked over the small part of his grace that he could reach, trying to calm the rippling of his grace.  _ Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk now. _

 

Gabriel dithered, then suddenly took hold of Sam’s mind, and in an instant they were somewhere else. Sam blinked, barely having time to take in the dream room they found themselves in, the golden yellow of the walls, the white sheets on the bed behind him, before Gabriel was upon him, desperate hands reaching up to fist in his shirt and wind through his hair and drag him down so Gabriel could kiss him breathless. 

 

Eventually, Sam had to pull away, gasping. Gabriel started sucking kisses into his neck, making his blood burn hot under his skin, his fingers undoing the buttons of Sam’s shirt with trembling urgency.

 

“What do you need, Gabe? Come on, tell me,” Sam coaxed, his voice rough in his throat.

 

“Make me forget about it. All of it. Please, Sam,” Gabriel murmured against his throat.

 

Sam was happy to oblige.

 

But afterwards, when they were lying together naked on the rumpled white sheets of the bed, Gabriel warm in his arms, he lay awake for a long time. All he could remember was the absolute terror that he’d felt the night Gabriel had dreamed of when he fell to earth. All alone, abandoned by his brothers in a snowstorm. 

 

What had happened to him between the dream of Gabriel’s family and that one? Why had happened to make Heylel Fall? What had happened to all of them? It was like they were completely different people. Like something had changed them. 

 

The questions refused to leave his head until, finally, he dropped back into an uneasy sleep. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like well-boiled porridge, the plot thickens


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings for- torture, vomiting
> 
> Are you ready for this chapter? Cos I know I'm not!

 

 

“He’s not gonna disappear if you take your eyes off the bus stop, you know.”

 

Dean shot Sam a dirty look, but it didn’t stop the way his head whipped back around to continue staring at the roadside. Gabriel chuckled inside Sam’s head. Sam could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, despite his tiredness.

 

Dean had woken them at six that morning, much to both of their disapproval, trying to pretend that he wanted to get an early start, but clearly buzzing with too much anticipation to stay in bed. Sam couldn’t even be mad at him. It was like watching a child on Christmas eve. 

 

They’d been waiting for Cas’ bus to get in for half an hour now, and Dean was treating the thing like a stakeout. Sam watched his intense expression with amusement. Was he even blinking?

 

Then, Dean’s expression lit up. Sam turned, seeing the bulk of the greyhound pull around the corner. There was a  _ slam  _ as Dean jumped out of the car like a wendigo was after him. Sam shook his head and climbed out as well, and by the time he turned, his brother was halfway across the road, half-jogging as the bus stopped with a hiss of brakes.

 

Inside his head, Gabriel started humming chariots of fire, projecting the image of Dean and Cas running towards one another in slow motion across a beach, arms outstretched, trenchcoat billowing majestically. Sam let out a bark of laughter and clapped a hand over his mouth, getting an odd look from a lady passing him. He quickly turned away.  _ Gabe, you’re making us look weird! _

 

**_I’M making us look weird!? This coming from the man dressed as though he’s modelling for a lumberjack discount store?_ ** Was thought with so much dramatic outrage that Sam couldn’t hold in another bout of snorting laughter, and he quickly crossed the road towards Dean’s fast retreating back and away from the lady’s disapproving glances.

 

By the time they reached the bus, Dean already had Cas engulfed in a slightly-too-long-to-be-friendly hug, only his shock of dark hair visible over Dean’s leather jacket. Dean finally released him, but their hands were still resting on each other’s shoulders, heads close together as they murmured to each other. Sam hesitated, hanging back. Let them have their moment. 

 

Cas finally released Dean and turned to them, a wide smile on his face. “Sam! Gabriel, brother!” He opened his arms.

 

“Oof!” Sam froze in surprise for a second as Cas’ solid bulk collided with his chest, feeling Gabriel’s surprise as well at the enthusiastic greeting, then chuckled and patted Cas gingerly on the back. “Good to see you too, Cas.”

 

“Dean told me about your encounter with the hunter again. I’m glad you weren’t injured.”   
  
Sam felt the smile spreading across his face, Cas’ grave sincerity settling warm between his ribs. “Thanks, Cas. I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“But not as glad as Dean is,” Gabriel butted in to say gleefully. 

 

_ Gabriel! _ Sam wrestled the giggling archangel back, but Cas just smiled at them almost knowingly. “Indeed.”

 

**_Wow, look at that! Baby bro’s growing some social awareness in there!_ **

 

Sam smiled back at Cas, a strange sort of pride growing inside him. Maybe things were looking up for Cas and Dean as well.  _ Yeah. Looks like he is. _

 

Dean reappeared then and herded them all towards the impala, gesturing with the hand not holding Cas’ backpack. “Come on, get in! We gotta get going if we’re going to get to Bobby’s by tomorrow. Sorry Sammy, you’re in the back, Cas gets shotgun”   
  
Gabriel balked, taking over to halt them in their tracks. “Woah, woah, woah. You mean we’re gonna be travelling the rest of today and through the night? But that’s gonna be twenty hours!”

 

Dean turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

 

Gabriel grimaced in distaste. “Yeah but we’re all tired, including you, don’t deny it. What time would we arrive at Bobby’s, anyway? Three am? Four? Ass-o’clock? The old geezer’s not even gonna be awake. We might as well get some sleep and arrive tomorrow morning.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, but then his gaze darting over to the bags under Cas’ eyes. He acquiesced with a sigh. “Fine, whatever. We’ll stop at a motel, but if Bobby bitches us out, I’m blaming it on you, man.”

 

.o0o.

 

Sam was glad that Gabriel had convinced Dean to stop for the night, even if the place was as scummy as it was. That didn’t matter when they were asleep.

 

They were back in Gabriel’s dreamscapes again, in a pleasant change from the recent memories and nightmares, making the most of spending time together, cut off from the struggles of the outside world. Tonight found them lounging on the warm sand of a deserted cove, surrounded by grassy sandstone cliffs (Northumberland, Gabriel had told him when Sam had asked). The smell of salt and seaweed floated on the warm air, mixing with the sweet honey scent of wildflowers. The water was a clear aquamarine, barely ruffled by the wind, deepening to a rich blue out to sea and blending seamlessly with the sky above them. 

 

They’d spent most of the night talking about inconsequential things, stopping occasionally to exchange warm kisses or to laugh at how imaginary sand was almost as annoying as the real thing. But eventually the conversation had petered out, both of them just basking in each others company. 

 

Sam breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of brine and summer heat filling his lungs, the feeling of Gabriel idly playing with a strand of his hair. This was what he’d missed about having a relationship. The sex was great, but the thing that was irreplaceable was the small things. The little intimacies. The knowing that someone loved and cared about you, and loving and caring for them in return. 

 

The thought made a smile curl his lips, made his insides tingle with warmth. He squeezed gently with the arm he had around Gabriel’s shoulders, and Gabriel rolled towards him, throwing a warm arm across his chest. Sam watched as those now-familiar fingers stroked gently across his shirt, rising and falling with his breath, Gabriel’s face peaceful for once as they rested, strands of his hair gleaming gold where the bright sunlight caught in them.

 

But soon enough, the problems of the outside world began to intrude on his peaceful thoughts. Sam hesitated, biting his lip, reluctant to break the peaceful moment. But his questions had been gnawing on him, and he had to ask. He cleared his throat. “You know, there's something I still don't understand.”

 

Gabriel’s eyes blinked open. He turned his head to look at him, his hideous floral beach shirt rucking up, and raised a questioning eyebrow. “What about?”

 

“About that memory the other night. The other archangels-”

 

Gabriel’s face abruptly closed off, the peaceful mood vanishing. “I don't want to talk about it.” 

 

“But, Gabe, it doesn’t make any-”

 

“No.” Gabriel pushed himself abruptly to his feet, spraying Sam with sand as he turned on his heel and strode off towards the calm sea.

 

Sam pushed himself up after him. “Gabriel! Wait!” Gabriel stopped in the shallows, arms crossed, not turning around. His back was stiff, his shoulders tense, and Sam felt his stomach clench in regret. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up after all. But this was a conversation they needed to have. Sam strode hastily down the beach, past the seaweed washed up on the strand line and into the sea.

 

The cold was a shock after how appealing the water had looked. Sam gasped, hesitating for a second as his toes tingled before wading out after Gabriel. “Did you make this water colder?” He asked accusingly. He could feel his legs going numb already.

 

Despite his mood, Sam saw the corner of Gabriel’s mouth turn up as he eventually reached him, the thick kelp twining around his legs to hold him back. “Nope. One hundred percent authentic North Sea temperature. And this is it in the summer. You wanna feel it in the winter?” He raised his hand to snap.

 

Gabriel was obviously trying to distract him, but Sam wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “Listen. Your brothers-”

 

This time Gabriel pushed out a frustrated breath and turned to face him, his eyes flashing with temper. “I said drop it, Sam!” He growled. Sam got a blink-and-miss-it impression of something else standing where he stood, something massive, all bristling wings and scowling eyes before Gabriel got himself back under control again. A chill wind whipped up across the water, dragging fingers of goosebumps across Sam’s arms. He crossed them, refusing to be intimidated.

 

“I can’t! Don’t you see? Something’s not right here! Please, Gabe, I’m not trying to hurt you but I have to know!” Sam hated to do this, hated making Gabriel so obviously uncomfortable, but something wasn’t adding up and he needed to get to the bottom of it. There was something about that memory, something more than the hurt that Gabriel had felt over his brothers fighting. That kind of terror just… wasn't quite right. What could Gabriel’s brothers have possibly done to make him that afraid?

 

Gabriel’s expression was a hard wall of temper, hiding a world of hurt. “Of course something’s not right! This is the freaking apocalypse, Sam! And I’m having to watch them rip each other apart,  _ again _ !”

 

“No, not that! Your brothers! They’ve changed too much to be natural, why can’t you see it?” Gabriel started walking deliberately into deeper water, and Sam followed, the chill slowly creeping up his thighs. Storm clouds started gathering above them, blocking out the blue. “Before, before you were on our side, I just assumed that they’d always been like that. We thought that they’d always fought, you know? We thought that Michael and Raphael had always been cold, and that Lucifer was always that bad. We thought you were some kind of anomaly, that you broke out of the system. But after watching that memory? Something must have happened, to make them that way. To change them. Your brothers couldn’t have just randomly started hating one another like that! And didn’t you say that Cas is different now?”

 

Gabriel waded out faster, the water coming up to his belly. The wind picked up. “So?”

 

“They’ve changed! Why? What happened?”

 

“How should I know!” Gabriel practically shouted. The sun vanished, ominous black clouds suddenly blotting out the light.

 

“Something got them, Gabe, something changed them!”

 

Gabriel froze where he stood. No, the entire landscape froze, the air going deathly still, grass bent over mid-sway, the white caps of the waves hesitating in the air. The sound of Gabriel’s breathing was harsh in the sudden silence, his back heaving with quivering breaths. For the first time, Sam hesitated. Maybe he  _ should  _ leave it. He didn’t want to hurt Gabriel, and the more this started to look like a panic attack, the more reluctant he was. But some intuition made him push on. He tried to ask as gently as he could.

 

“Gabriel, why did you leave heaven?”

 

“Because of the fighting!” Gabriel exploded. “They were fighting, and they were going to kill each other, and I couldn’t take it, alright? I couldn’t stand it!” His voice rose, too-loud and cracking at the edges with hysteria.

 

Sam moved around so he could see Gabriel’s face, wincing as he saw what Gabriel usually hid behind his sarcasm and snark. “I know, Gabe, and I’m sorry, but you need to think back. The night you left specifically, was there something else?”

 

“Of course there wasn’t! Isn’t that enough reason for me to leave? I…” Gabriel trailed off, his eyes going unfocused. Sam waited, watching him closely. 

 

The silence stretched out. 

 

When Gabriel finally spoke again his voice was low, slowly creeping dread saturating every word. “There was… something,” he muttered. “Something in the Garden…”

 

So there  _ was  _ something there. “Do you know what happened?” Sam asked cautiously.

 

“What is that? Why can’t I see?” Gabriel’s voice rose again, distress driving it higher and louder. He pulled at his hair, his grace fizzling out into the air around them, and Sam felt a jolt of alarm as the whole landscape warped at the edges. He grabbed Gabriel by the shoulders.

 

“Let me see, Gabriel, maybe I can help.” Gabriel said nothing, his face scrunched up, eyes fixed on nothing. “Gabriel. Gabe! Let me see!”

 

Gabriel’s eyes cleared, and the scenery changed with a nauseating jerk. Sam staggered and Gabriel steadied him by the arms, holding him upright until he got his balance. Sam didn’t have any time to think about the abruptness of the change, though, because he was too busy trying to absorb what was going on in front of him.

 

They were back in the Garden, but it was no longer the peaceful place of Gabriel’s early memories. The trees were burnt, the grass yellowed and brittle. Michael and Lucifer faced off, snarling and snapping viciously at each other, poisonous words flying between them. On the other side of Sam, a much younger Gabriel looked on in dismay as his brothers fought. He could feel the echoes of then-Gabriel’s thoughts, lined with anxiety and desperation. What should he do? Surely they wouldn’t harm each other. They argued, yes, but to actually  _ fight _ …

 

**_He expects us to love them? To worship them?_ ** Lucifer snarled. **_Those pathetic little insects?_ **

 

**_Brother, you will not go against Father’s Will, or I will cast you down myself I swear it-_ **

 

Lucifer bared his teeth. **_Do it! Better that than be owned by those little freaks! Screw Father, and screw His plan! I don’t follow him anymore._ **

 

Ever line in Michael’s body went rigid, a grisly snarl rising from his mouths as his wings bristled sharp as knives. But Gabriel had seen Lucifer coiling, every muscle ready to strike. He would be deadly. Gabriel felt a lurch of panic, and it propelled him forwards.

 

**_Brother! No!_ ** Then-Gabriel leapt, throwing his smaller body between his brothers. The entire memory went strange and blurred, warping as though they were looking at it through moving water. Shapes morphed, shattered, reproduced, folded into each other in a kaleidoscopic spiral of light and sound-

 

And then Gabriel was staggering away. Sam looked around, confused, but Lucifer and Michael were nowhere to be seen. He looked back and let out a shout of alarm when he saw then-Gabriel. His wings were tattered, gleaming silver blood running down his forehead, catching in the corner of his eye before falling like tears down his face. He spread his wings with a sob and leapt off the edge of heaven, more falling than flying, down down down to earth. A whisper in a mortal’s ear and he was alone, stranded in the snow, a familiar snowstorm whipping around him as he trudged through the night, and there was still something wrong and he was terrified of his brothers, especially Lucifer, but he couldn’t quite remember why...

 

The memory looped back to the start, sending Sam staggering again. Michael and Lucifer were at each other’s throats, with then-Gabriel unharmed and confused standing next to him. He looked down to reassure himself, and there was his Gabriel, still frozen by his side, his eyes fixed on the scene and his face pale. Sam turned back to watch.

 

This time, Sam was expecting the events. When Gabriel lunged at the other archangels and the whole memory went strange and distant, Sam concentrated hard, staring into the chaos, trying to piece it together. Then-Gabriel staggered away once more, and this time Sam looked around with a frown, realising something. He turned around and found the present Gabriel watching with him, his face a blank mask of pain, eyes ancient. His jaw was clenched, the tendons in his neck turned to steel bars.

 

“We’re somewhere else,” Sam told him carefully, “This isn’t where you started out. This is a different part of heaven.”

 

Gabriel didn’t say anything, but Sam could see his eyes flick up where they had been locked on his past self, taking in their surroundings for what seemed to be the first time. He didn’t speak, but he frowned in confusion. They kept watching as his brothers fought, Gabriel ran, his brothers fought again.

 

And then, on the fourth repetition, Sam spotted it. It was as the world wavered when Gabriel leapt towards his brothers. Just a spot, a glitch where the ripples seemed to spread from. “There!” Before it could vanish, Sam reached out. 

 

“Sam! No!” He felt his Gabriel’s fingers dig into his arm, trying to hold him back, but he was too late. Sam’s fingertips connected.

 

The world was thrown into instant chaos. The landscape spun around them, zoomed towards them like it was shattering outwards in reverse. Sam cried out, held up his arm over his face in a futile attempt to protect himself-

 

Then they were on the other side. He staggered, blinked, gasping for breath, and looked around. They were in the garden still. Gabriel was clutching at his arm, his face pale and shaken. Sam briefly reached out and clasped his shoulder, squeezing gently, trying to convey a little comfort while he was still reeling. 

 

He took a second to get his bearings. They were still in the same memory, but everything looked slightly different, as though the whole landscape had been displaced a few centimetres to the left. But now it felt more real, he realised. Like a thin curtain that he hadn’t realised was there had been drawn back. The colours were richer and more vibrant, the ground under his feet felt more solid. This was the real memory.

 

“What the hell  _ was  _ that?” He had thought that maybe the memory was off because Gabriel had blocked out the trauma of losing his brothers, but that had seemed almost… artificial? 

 

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t me.” 

 

Sam looked down and froze when he caught sight of Gabriel’s expression. The blank mask was gone. Sam was reminded of his expression when he’d had them trapped in TV land, pinning Dean against the wall. The expression that said that he was pissed, and someone would pay, if he had to track them down and gut them himself. It was the face that hid behind the trickster, behind the pagan god. A vengeful archangel. Even when Sam knew he wasn’t the focus of the anger, it was intimidating. “Someone did this to me.” Gabriel growled, jaw clenched. “Someone messed with my memories. I want to know who they are and what they did. I want to know why. And then I’m gonna murder them.”

 

“I know,” Sam said carefully. “I’ll help you.” 

 

Gabriel looked up at him and nodded in acknowledgement, eyes hard. Then he braced himself and turned to watch the unfolding scene.

 

Initially, it was the same as before. The arguing, the snarling. Sam knew what was coming when Michael tensed, and Gabriel leapt.

 

**_Brother! No!_ **

 

Then-Gabriel jumped forwards, but this time there was nothing obscuring their vision. The smaller archangel landed between his brothers just in time to catch Lucifer’s swing solidly to the side of his head. 

 

Gabriel’s pained yelp echoed around the clearing. Sam winced. Both of the other archangels froze in horror before, to Sam’s surprise, they immediately abandoned each other. Comforting croons were almost buried under Gabriel’s howls of distress, but he let his brothers hold him, two sets of long fingers inspecting the wound.

 

**_Gabriel, brother, I am so sorry, are you alright? Come on, we’ll get you to Raph, please don’t cry..._ **

 

**_Why?_ ** Gabriel wailed,  **_Why are you fighting? Why won’t you stop?_ **

 

**_I… We…_ ** Michael trailed off, losing focus in tending to Gabriel’s wounds, shaking his heads as though there was a bee buzzing around him.

 

Gabriel noticed his distraction.  **_Michael? Heylel?_ **

 

Lucifer raised his hands, pressing his forehead as though he had a headache.  **_I couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t I stop!?_ **

 

**_What’s wrong? Let me help!_ ** Forgetting about his own injury Gabriel wobbled upright, reaching for his brothers, stretching up to try and pry Lucifer’s hands away from his face.

 

A pair of seraphs burst through the undergrowth, half running half flying as they approached, out of breath. Gabriel turned to face them, his mouth opening, but before he could speak the slightly larger one barked out,  **_Come with us, Gabriel! Your father wants to see you._ **

 

Gabriel perked up immediately.  **_Father! Father has returned?_ **

 

Sam grimaced at the heartbreaking hope in Gabriel’s voice. That his father would come home and fix everything. Gabriel bounded forwards.  **_Zachariel, Naiomi, you need to take me to Him! Something’s wrong with Michael and Heylel, He can fix them!_ **

 

**_Yes, of course, this way._ **

 

Gabriel turned back to his brothers.  **_Stay here, Michael, Heylel! I’m going to get help!_ **

 

They set off across heaven, and Sam could see Gabriel’s impatience as he had to slow down to follow the seraphs rather than shooting forward on his six faster wings. Eventually they alighted next to a clean white building and ushered him inside. There was a large, oddly shaped reclining seat, like a dentist’s chair in the middle of the room. The whole place was ominously clean. Looking at it gave Sam chills.

 

Naomi gestured to the chair.  **_Here, sit._ **

 

**_Where is he?_ ** Gabriel sat, each of his heads looking around independently.

 

The seraphs pounced on him. Gabriel let out a squawk of surprise and flailed a little as they pressed him flat, but he was too puzzled to put up much of a fight. Manacles sprang out of the chair and wrapped around his ankles, his arms, his wings, keeping him down. The seraphs stepped away as Gabriel struggled, but the bindings wouldn’t let him move an inch.

 

**_What are you doing?_ ** Sam’s heart constricted. Gabriel’s tone held only innocent confusion, with none of the terror it should have.

 

The seraphs ignored him, hissing to each other.  **_He knows, we can’t let him go!_ **

 

**_Will it even work on him? He always was a free-thinker,_ ** grumbled the slightly larger one,  _ Zachariah  _ Gabriel’s memories whispered to him. 

 

Naomi flicked her wings in irritation.  **_Well we need to do_ ** **something** **_. You saw the others, he nearly broke them out of it! He’ll ruin everything! They’ll remember everything if he keeps this up and then we’ll both be dead._ **

 

Gabriel was starting to catch on, struggling harder against the cuffs.  **_What have you done to Heylel and Michael!? Naomi, Zachariah, I’m your brother! Why are you doing this?_ **

 

Zachariah suddenly perked up.  **_I have an idea! We can't kill him ourselves, we don't have an archangel blade, and we’ll never get him to manifest it. But all we have to do is make him forget as much as we can, and then we just have to programme Heylel to get rid of him properly next time. Problem solved._ **

 

**_WHAT!?_ **

 

Naomi’s wings flickered, uncertain.  **_Kill him?_ **

 

**_We’re not going to kill him, we’re just going to plant the idea, that’s all._ ** Zachariel wheedled. 

 

Naomi nodded slowly.  **_Yes, that might just work._ ** Then she chuckled darkly.  **_Michael might even kill Heylel voluntarily after that. That would certainly make it easier for us to take control afterwards._ **

 

Gabriel was furious now, straining at the bindings.  **_Why are you doing this!? WHY!? Just you wait, when I get out of here you’re not gonna see the outside of heaven’s jail for the next eternity! Let me go! You can’t do this! Father! Fatheeer!_ **

 

Naomi sneered down at him.  **_Oh, shut up you spoilt brat. Archangels, always acting so superior. But you’re just Father’s first draft. And now he’s gone, I think leadership should fall to those of us with more… ambition, don’t you?_ ** Naomi reached up, pulling down a machine that was hanging near the ceiling. On the chair, Gabriel’s eyes widened and Sam tensed as they both saw the glimmer of a long, thin drill bit. It started spinning. Beside him, Sam heard now-Gabriel make a choked-off noise, his fingers digging into Sam’s arm hard enough to hurt, but Sam didn’t pull away. He wanted to leap forwards, to stop this from happening, but it already had. There was nothing he could do. He was frozen. Helpless.

 

**_No, no, please..._ **

 

The drill whirred, buzzed with a stomach-churning whine. It was getting closer, and closer, and-

 

Sam tried to look away, but he couldn’t, paralysed by horror. The drill shrilled as it found angelic flesh and then-Gabriel  _ screamed _ . His whole body jolted and seized, over and over. Zachariel watched on dispassionately as Naiomi went to work. Gabriel’s wings were shaking, quivering against the restraints, the spasms slowly losing energy like the last desperate throes of a dying animal.

 

It seemed like an age before the other angels drew away. The needle pulled out with a horrible sucking noise, but then-Gabriel didn’t even twitch on the table. Sam was too busy watching in dismay to notice the other angels leave, his ears still ringing, his stomach churning, but suddenly they were alone. His-Gabriel’s grip on his arm was painfully tight, but Sam had no intentions of telling him to stop. 

 

The clamps released Gabriel’s legs and wings with a soft  _ click _ , but in the burning silence it was enough to make Sam flinch. Slowly, very slowly, Gabriel sat up, his faces shellshocked blank masks. He tried to stand and nearly fell, catching himself on the chair. His wings flailed clumsily as he staggered towards the door. A tear of silver blood started to trickle from his eye, running down his cheek. His walk turned into a shambling run as he got further from that dreaded room, fleeing from something he couldn’t quite remember. There was something lurking behind him, out of the corner of his eye, and it was terrifying. He reached the limits of heaven and leapt off the edge, knowing only that he had to get away, far, far away and never come back…

 

...

 

The dream-memory broke like a piece of glass shattering. Sam lurched out of sleep with a wild gasp, already moving, flinging them towards the bathroom just in time to empty everything he had ever eaten into the toilet bowl. 

 

Finally, his heaving petered out. He coughed and sniffed, eyes streaming, still reeling from what he had seen. 

 

Something vast stirred in the back of his mind, rising like magma towards the surface. The hair rose on the back of his neck. 

 

_ Gabriel? _

 

Gabriel clenched their hands on the toilet seat, tendons standing out white. The porcelain started to shake, the soap rattling off the shelf to clatter into the sink. The lights flickered.

 

_ Gabriel?  _ Sam asked, cautious.

 

**_They destroyed our family._ ** The words were flat. Emotionless. But Sam could feel the storm brewing behind that facade, the terrible archangelic wrath looming over him. He edged towards the back of his mind, instinctive fear taking over. Gabriel looked up, and Sam caught sight of his own face in the mirror, but it was so wrong, light glowing in the irises, strange shadows falling across his cheekbones, expression carved from granite. Ancient. Inhuman. Terrifying. 

 

_ Gabriel _ , he whispered.

 

**_THEY WILL DIE!_ ** The storm broke. Distantly, Sam could feel the bathroom walls shaking. A scream rose up from Gabriel’s grace and ripped out of his throat, full of rage and pain and grief; the mirror shattered, their reflection cracking into a hundred sharp-edged pieces. Gabriel’s grace blew out and Sam was flattened to the back of his own mind, crushed under the weight of eons of anger, howling and uncontrollable, sharp whips of energy raking across his soul. Gabriel’s wings flared wide, the bathroom lights sparking. Sam could see the rage screaming through him, the urge to rip and tear, to uproot the motel room from the ground until it was nothing but a smoking crater, to beat his wings until he was a hurricane, scouring the earth in his path-

 

_ GABRIEL! Gabe, stop! Please! _

 

Gabriel… stopped. The rage folded in on itself and collapsed, leaving only confusion and a terrible, agonising sadness.  **_Why would they do that? Why… we were family._ **

 

_ Gabriel, I’m so sorry, I am. I know you’re hurting. But you’ve gotta stop, man.  _

 

Gabriel turned his gaze inwards, and Sam felt it as soon as he noticed him. He sucked in a horrified breath. **_Sam!_** All of Gabriel’s focus turned inwards, and Sam found himself gently cradled within grace. A wave of sorrow and guilt washed over Sam as Gabriel found the raw, open wounds that he had inflicted, Gabriel’s unshielded emotions washing over him and nearly overwhelming him. Despite that Sam reached out, trying to reassure him.

 

_ I’m okay, Gabe. I’m alright. _

 

**_No you’re not!_** Gabriel’s distress increased. **_I hurt you!_**

 

Sam was about to deny it, but a shift sent a bolt of pain through him that would have driven him to his knees if he had been in control.  _ Let’s just… stay here for a moment. _

 

A loud voice interrupted them. “Someone is going to tell me what the  _ fuck  _ is going on, and they’re gonna start right now. This had better be an emergency, or I'm gonna kick your combined ass into next week.” 

 

Their eyes opened. Dean was standing in the doorway, expression like a hibernating bear, gun held in a ready grip. He squinted around the wreck of the bathroom, eyebrows rising as he took in the destruction. “What the hell were you  _ doing  _ in here? I’ll be surprised if you haven’t woken the entire damn motel! Fuck knows how Cas is still asleep...”

 

Sam opened their mouth to reply, but Gabriel beat him to it. “Everybody,” Gabriel’s voice was shaking, “They did it to everybody. All the seraphs, Castiel...” he trailed off. 

 

Dean started to look alarmed. “Well that’s ominous. Either of you going to tell me what's going on?”

 

The bathroom abruptly felt far too small. Gabriel rose and shoved past Dean, pacing across the cramped room. Sam could feel his grace roiling, threatening to burst out again with every step. “It’s my fault, I should have stayed-”

 

Sam butted in. “If you’d stayed, there would be nobody to help us now. They would have killed you. You did the right thing, Gabe-”

 

“-I should have stayed! I should have protected them! They were my brothers, and I left them!”

 

Dean watched them warily as they wore a strip into the carpet. “Okay, that is… really freaky. Even more freaky than usual. What's wrong with Cas?”

 

Typical Dean and his one-track mind. Sam prodded Gabriel gently aside.  _ Let me explain.  _ Slowly, Gabriel sank to the back and Sam turned to Dean. “Someone’s been brainwashing the angels,” he explained. Dean still looked dubious. “I saw it, it was…” Sam swallowed. “It was brutal, Dean. They tampered with their memories. They tampered with Gabriel’s memory, but we managed to break through it. Gabriel thinks they’ve done it to Cas as well, and Michael and Lucifer. Zachariah was involved, and an angel called Naomi.”

 

“Knew that smug sonofabitch was no good.” Dean shrugged, still scowling at them. “Okay, but how does this change anything?”

 

Gabriel’s rage boiled back to the surface. Before Sam knew what happened, they were against the opposite wall, his fists in Dean’s jacket, Dean’s wide eyes inches from theirs.

 

“They tried to get my brothers to murder each other, you moron!” Gabriel roared into his face. “They tried to get Lucifer to kill me, and they nearly succeeded! This changes everything!”

 

“Whoa, okay man, okay,” Dean said placatingly, holding his hands up. 

 

_ Gabriel... _

 

Gabriel sighed, his wings slumping out of sight. He stepped back and let go of Dean, letting him drop back to the carpet with a thump.  **_I know. Sorry._ ** “Sorry,” he said out loud as well, avoiding Dean’s eyes. 

 

“Okay,” Dean said, adjusting his clothes warily, eyes still on Gabriel. “So what exactly do we do about it? We had a workable plan with the rings, why not stick to that?”

 

But something else had occurred to Sam, a new plan making his heart race. “We might not have to kill Michael or Lucifer, Dean! We might not even need to trap them! All we have to do is fix their memories somehow, and with any luck they should snap right out of it!”  _ Gabriel, don’t you see, this could be good! If they didn’t actually want to fight this whole time, if it was just the mind manipulation that was making them do it, we might have a chance! _

 

Gabriel perked up, his grace swirling with surprise. **_You’re right!_** He laughed, his mood rising just a little. **_Sam, you’re a genius!_**

 

Dean was still looking dubious. “So what, you’re expecting them to just hug it out? After they’ve spent the last year trying the barbecue the earth?”

 

“Like we were getting anywhere with killing them or locking them back up! Look, lucifer’s too strong for Gabriel to handle. We know that. Michael’s too powerful as well, never mind both of them together. Putting them down is a suicide mission, and our working plan, with the rings? Wasn't much better. We haven't even figured out how to trick them into the cage. But this way all we have to do is distract them until we can fix their memories, and hopefully they'll snap out of it.” And then they just had to hope that there was anything left of those loving brothers that Gabriel remembered left under all that programming.

 

“Oh yeah, hold archangels still while you mess around with their brains? That sounds easy. A real cake walk. So how do you propose we hold down the enraged archangels while we give them a lobotomy?”

 

Gabriel flinched back, memories of that long needle flashing through them again. Sam blinked rapidly, doing his best to help him push them back and reply. “I don't know, Dean. But it's better than we've got now. Just give it a chance. Please.”

 

Dean still didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

 

“What do you mean?” Sam snapped, starting to get annoyed. Half of his attention was on Gabriel, curled up as small as the archangel could get in the back of his brain.

 

Dean looked around, his voice dropping to a murmur like that would prevent Gabriel from hearing. “Are you sure it’s not a trick? I know Gabriel never wanted to kill Lucifer, do you think-”

 

Sam drew his head back, affronted. “Oh shut up, Dean! Stop acting like an idiot, of course I’m sure!” Anger boiling through his veins on Gabriel’s behalf. How could Dean still be so distrustful of Gabriel, after everything he’d risked for them? He could understand not trusting Sam’s judgement, after all his mistakes. But what did the archangel have to do to prove himself? He wanted to take Dean by his shoulders and shake him. But that wouldn’t do anything to convince him. 

 

“Look, I saw it all, and I can feel what he’s feeling. Please, just trust me. This is real.” An idea came to him. “And we can prove it. Where’s Cas?”

 

“Do you really think he was brainwashed as well? He doesn’t seem like it to me” 

 

“Dean, how the hell would you know? from what I saw, nearly all the angels were brainwashed. And remember that time heaven dragged him back and left us with Jimmy while they ‘reeducated’ him?”

 

Dean suddenly started looking thoughtful and a little worried, glancing over at the slowly rising and falling lump of blankets on the pull-out bed. “Oh. Yeah, actually. When he came back it was like he hardly knew me...” 

 

Sam nodded. “I’ll bet you that’s what they were doing.”

 

Anger suddenly sparked in Dean’s eyes. He scowled. “They’ve been doing that to him this whole time!? They’ve been screwing with his head. Fuck, I wish I’d killed Zachariah slower.” Sam gave him a few seconds to calm himself. After his indignation had died down, Dean glanced at them and grimaced. He rubbed a hand over his face, momentarily obscuring the bags under his eyes. “Sorry. About what I said about Gabe. I’m just…” 

 

Tired. Stressed. Anxious. Not thinking. “I know. Me too. But we can reverse this. Gabriel can fix him, I know he can.”

 

Dean gave him a long look then nodded. Gabriel stirred, coming back to the surface. Sam was glad that he appeared to have missed his and Dean’s conversation. They walked over to the bed. Gabriel seemed to shake himself, pulling himself back together as he looked down at his sibling.  **_Castiel._ ** Sam felt purpose gathering in his grace.

 

_ Don’t you want to wait? It might be better to wait for morning…  _ Sam could still feel Gabriel’s grace coiling in on itself in shock, and the urge to comfort him was growing stronger by the second. Gabriel gently shrugged him off.

 

**_No, I’m doing it now. We’ve forgotten our family for long enough._ **

 

Gabriel reached out and shook his shoulder. Cas stirred blearily and squinted up at them. “Gabriel?”

 

“Hey, Castiel. We need to talk. Something’s come up.”

 

Gabriel explained what had happened, glossing carefully over the exact methods that Naomi and Zachariah had used.  **_Not that that will matter once he remembers_ ** , Sam caught the bitter thought.

 

Once Gabriel was finished, he sat next to the seraph, watching Cas’ pensive expression carefully.

 

“So, whadda you say? You want to do this now?”

 

Cas nodded slowly, glancing at Dean hovering nervously behind them before he answered. “Yes.” A crease formed between his brows. “I find it… unbelievable that our siblings would willingly cripple us like this. Unbelievable and repulsive.”

 

Gabriel looked at him sadly. “You and me both, bro.” He reached out, Sam’s fingers hovering on either side of his temples. Gabriel waited until Cas nodded, then pressed the fingertips against his skull. He closed Sam’s eyes.

 

Gabriel reached out, stretching his grace out of Sam’s body and slipping into Castiel’s memories. Sam caught slivers of sensation through the warm press of grace against grace, colours and impressions, things that his human mind couldn't quite process. Gabriel kept searching, flicking faster and faster like Castiel’s mind was a book and he had braced his thumb against the pages, making the memories blur together in a crackle of half-seen images.

 

**_There!_ ** The whirlwind stopped. Sam recognised the place. It was that warehouse where Castiel had been taken by heaven, leaving a confused Jimmy Novak in his place. He looked closer, then spotted what Gabriel had noticed. There was a crack in the scene, smaller than it had been in Gabriel's memory, not as obvious, a tiny chink the only evidence of tampering. Sam watched as Gabriel grimly formed his grace into a diamond hard point and stabbed it right into the heart of the weakness. 

 

The illusion shattered and Sam felt Cas’ body jerk as memories of that sterile room, needles and pain flooded his brain. Gabriel wished he could stop and let Cas acclimatise to the new memories, but there were too many more to go. It would have to happen after. 

 

The farther back they went, the more tampering Gabriel found, and the angrier he became. He tried to hide it, but Sam could feel it. His grace rolled, and Sam pressed wordless reassurances against him. They needed to stay calm, to help Cas.

 

They went right back to the start, unlocking memories as they went. By the time they were finished, Gabriel’s grace was almost exhausted again, and their fingers pressing too-hard against Cas’ forehead were shaking. Gabriel drew back, reeling his grace back into Sam and compressing himself fully again. Sam drew a deep breath, the first he’d taken since they had entered Cas’ mind. 

 

They opened their eyes just in time to see Cas’ eyes roll back in his head. Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulders, lowering him to the bed. Dean jumped forwards, but Gabriel held his arm out.

 

“Cool your motors, bucko. He just needs to rest.”

 

“He’ll be alright?” Dean's concerned eyes were fixed on Cas’ slack face.

 

“I don't know about alright, but he’ll be better.” Gabriel stood, stretching Sam's spine out with a series of cracks. “Baby bro just had a few million years’ worth of memories funnel through his brain, he’s overdue a nap.”

 

Inside though, Gabriel wasn’t nearly so calm. Sam could feel the upset rolling through his grace, making his stomach nauseous.  **_No wonder he didn't remember me from before. He hardly remembered anything, he was nearly a blank slate!_ **

 

He brushed up against Gabriel’s grace in sympathy.  _ He’ll remember now though, right?  _

 

**_They didn't just make him forget us. They made him forget we were a family. They made him forget what a family even felt like!_ **

 

_ You can remind him. You’ll help him, we all will. _

 

They raised their head to see Dean looking down at them, his expression unusually gentle. “Come on, we’ll deal with this crap in the morning. It’s too late for this. Get on the bed before you drop.” 

 

They felt strangely numb as they nodded and wandered back towards their bed. Dean turned off the light again and they sat down on top of the covers, staring off into the darkness. Gabriel wanted to run from what they had unearthed, Sam could feel it, to retreat away from the world, but there was no escape this time. The horror was inside his own mind. There was no running from it. The memories played again, and again, a loop of white walls and the whine of the drill.

 

Sam gently nudged aside the barriers between their minds, reaching in to push the memories down where they wouldn’t have to look at them.  _ Hey. Come on, we need to get some rest. _

 

Gabriel folded Sam’s long legs to his chest, hugging his knees. There was an unfamiliar hitch in his breathing, a tug in his lungs that made the air stick in his throat. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, smothering any noise that might be trying to get out, closing their eyes. tears dripped down to wet his fingers.

 

_ Oh, Gabriel…  _ Sam wished suddenly that he was in a different body. He wanted to wrap Gabriel in his arms, hold him against his chest and stroke up and down his back, and now his shoulders were shaking, his eyes screwing up in aching silent sobs, and there was hardly any comfort Sam could offer. Hesitantly, he stretched out with his mind, trying to embrace as much of his grace as he could.  _ We’re gonna make this right, Gabe, I swear it, _ he murmured. Gabriel didn’t reply, but his grace leaned in, wrapping itself around Sam’s soul. They stayed there, quiet, as Gabriel’s grace slowly calmed. 

  
Sam didn’t know how long they stayed like that. It might have been his imagination, but he could swear just before he drifted off to sleep, he heard Gabriel murmur very quietly, **_I love you, Sam_ ** .

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love EVERYONE IN THIS BAR and most of all I love all of your very incentive revenge/torture ideas XD Fear not, Naomi's gonna get what she deserves!

 

The journey back to Bobby’s seemed to drag. Gabriel barely heard Dean’s tapes or the sound of his and Cas’ voices talking quietly in the front seats. His attention was turned inwards, still too busy reeling emotionally and trying to reorganise his mind into something like order.

 

With Cas’ memories it had almost been easier. There had been so much removed that it was simple to differentiate where the gaps were. Added to that, the memory removal that had been performed on Castiel was brutal, but it was obvious that Naomi’s technique had improved since heaven’s war- the removal was precise, surgical. A clean break between the memories and their absence. There had been no subtlety to it, just erasure. It was a strange kind of horrifying, Gabriel thought to himself bitterly, to be envious of the brother who’d almost had his personality erased. It would have been cleaner than what they’d done to him and the other archangels.

 

Within himself, the situation was much more complex. Some memories had been… altered, the subtle differences only noticeable now that he knew what he was looking for. Where some memories had been partially erased or gone completely, his own mind had taken the empty spaces, like a hole where a tooth should be, and filled them with possibilities, false half-memories of his own making. Shattered fragments were caught in a net of mental scar tissue, his grace’s natural attempt to repair the damage, making it harder for him to piece everything back together. Sorting out the real memories from the false was a long, painful, frustrating task. Gabriel really had to congratulate Naomi, he thought grimly. She was very good. She had to have been, to have fooled him and so many others for so long.

 

He should have known, he kept berating himself. His memories were too damaged, he should have realised that something was wrong, surely? But at the same time, he knew exactly why he had never realised. He had spent so long carefully not looking at his memories of his brothers, not thinking of heaven. His cover as a pagan god hadn’t only been superficial. He had plunged himself into his new life, burying everything about his past as deep as his grace would let him, fearing the pain that those memories would bring him. Unable to face them. They had nearly all been doomed by his cowardice, yet again.

 

He pulled out what he hoped was the last half-altered memory with a particularly vicious yank, like pulling up a deep-rooted weed, only the weed was rooted in his mind and he could feel its removal as though he was extracting his own fingernails, one at a time. Sam’s soul hovered over him worriedly, running concerned tendrils across his grace to ease the sting. Gabriel held the memory out, and Sam carefully took it. They didn’t need to discuss it; they’d been doing this for hours.

 

He’d tried to hide the pain from Sam at first, but Sam wasn’t having any of it, and as the hours had passed and his strength had waned from the strain he had needed him more and more. He helped Gabriel find the infected memories, carefully repairing what he could, cracking through Naomi's illusions with the same stubborn tenacity that Gabriel had seen in him once before, during those horrible six months at the mystery spot. But this time, Sam wasn’t hunting him, but helping him. The world was weird.

 

(Neither of them had mentioned the words Gabriel had whispered as they fell asleep. Gabriel wasn’t even sure if Sam had heard. Maybe it would be better if he hadn’t.)

 

Sam handed back the memory, and they both watched as it slotted back in, a glowing filament sinking back into his grace like a puzzle which had finally been solved. Sam sighed with relief, slumping against him. His soul was dimmer but still warm, both of them exhausted from hours of concentration. Gabriel wrapped his grace around him like a blanket. Together, they slipped into a doze, lulled by the movement of the car.

 

...

 

“Wake up sleeping beauties, we’re here.”

 

Gabriel blinked Sam’s eyes open, gummy from sleep, and grimaced. He gave their limbs a shuddering stretch and sat up, registering that the car had stopped, and looked out the window at the piles of junked cars.

 

“We at Bobby’s?”

 

“Yeah, come on.” Dean tipped his head towards the house, where Cas’ trenchcoated back and Bobby’s shorter one were silhouetted against the open door. “They’re waiting.”

 

Bobby’s eyebrows rose as he took in Gabriel’s appearance, stepping back to let them into the house. “You boys have been busy.”

 

“Gold star for grandpa.” Gabriel rubbed a hand over their face, grimacing when he found a crust in the corner of his eye.

 

_Why’s he staring at us?_ Sam wondered. _Have we got something on our face?_

 

Gabriel turned to look in the mirror on the way to the study and winced. There were deep bags under Sam’s eyes, his normally sleek hair was dull and lank. There was a grey pallor to his skin that made him look thin and ill. All in all, he looked as bad as Gabriel felt. It didn’t help that Gabriel knew that it was the effects from the spillover of his grace. **_Sorry._ **

 

_It’s not your fault, I’ll recover._

 

They all filed into the study. Gabriel practically threw himself onto the couch. Cas gave him a concerned look as he sat, extending a thread of grace, but Gabriel turned him away. There was nothing the seraph could do for him. The only thing that would heal his grace was time and rest.

 

“Dean caught me up on the memories,” Bobby prompted, sinking down into his armchair. "How you coping, Cas?" Dean leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Cas as he sank further into his chair with a sigh.

 

"As reasonably as can be expected. Everything makes a lot more sense now, but it is also more... cluttered. Jumbled. I believe it will take me some time to work out where all the memories go, and my true feelings about everything now that I have been restored. Naomi seems to have muted them. Some of my actions just before Lucifer's release, in particular, I am already feeling more regret about." He cast a guilty look towards Sam before twisting his head towards Dean. "I apologise for abandoning Jimmy with you, and my actions afterwards."

  
  
"No need to apologise, Cas. You weren't yourself." Dean muttered. 

 

Bobby turned back to Gabriel, his eyes sharp above his beard. "And what about you? You still doin' okay in there?"

 

Wasn't that the million dollar question. But his grace shied away from even thinking of talking about it at the minute with anyone who wasn't Sam. It was too soon. Gabriel painted on a sarcastic smile, crossing Sam's long legs. "Just peachy."

 

Bobby grunted, like he saw right through him and wasn't overly impressed. “You want to tell me what these new memories mean for us? Apart from confirming that most of heaven is populated with dicks.”

 

Gabriel rubbed a hand over Sam’s forehead, still feeling crusty with sleep. “Well, it means we were wrong about everything. I was wrong about _myself_ .” He chuckled bitterly. “My family didn’t rip _itself_ apart, it _was_ ripped apart. Which makes this all easier and harder. Easier because if we can figure out how to restore my brothers, they won’t want to fight, and our problems are solved. Harder because I won’t help you kill them. Any of them.” Dean made a noise of objection, and Gabriel shot him a glare. “I’ll help you stop them, but I’m not killing my family. Not now that there’s another option.”

 

“You’re sure about that?” Dean asked. “You’re sure they won’t turn on each other once you fix their heads and rip each other apart anyway?”

 

Something inside Gabriel snapped. “You don’t know my family!” He snarled. “We loved each other. Loved! This isn’t their fault! We’d never try and hurt each other if we were in our right minds. We’d never try and destroy the earth.”

 

Dean and Bobby were silent, their eyes fixed on him. Wary. Gabriel blinked, realising that he’d accidentally let a little of his true voice seep in. He shut his mouth with a snap, then dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyes. He hated being like this, like an injured animal backed into a corner and lashing out. An apology stuck in his throat. “I just want my brothers back.” The words came out smaller than he meant them to.

 

There was an awkward silence until Dean nodded, clearing his throat. “So we find a way to undo the brainwashing.”

 

Bobby snorted, relaxing and leaning back into his chair. “Now all we gotta do is persuade them to stay still so we can lobotomise them. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

 

“It would be very hard,” Cas put in gloomily, “They would flatten us with a thought. You might not, but I remember my last encounter with an enraged archangel.”

 

“But we’ll be better prepared this time. And it’s gotta be easier than killing them or getting them into the cage,” Dean reminded him. Bobby conceded with a tip of his glass. Cas shrugged noncommittally.

 

They lapsed into silence. All they needed was _time_. Gabriel could see the others all thinking, no doubt trying to find a way out of this mess. Something to block the archangels, something to slow them down. A trap? A spell? But nearly all the magics he knew would barely be able to hold a fully-powered archangel for a second. Not long enough for what they needed. No use looking there.

 

Sam, on the other hand, was going through his memories of his confrontations with Lucifer. Gabriel winced as Sam flicked past his panicked reactions from the last time he’d managed to find them after dealing with Brady, even the memories triggering a tremor of anxiety in him. Sam must have realised that he could see, because a second later a barrier appeared between them, thick enough that Gabriel didn’t have to look, but thin enough that he could still sense Sam flicking through the memories.  

 

Then, suddenly, Sam’s soul lit up. He watched one particular memory again, and his excitement grew. Gabriel sent him a questioning thought. Sam discarded the rest of the memories, showing the one remaining one to him. _Remember when Lucifer caught up with us?_

 

**_Obviously._ **

 

_Right. We were fighting, and he was too good at the archangel stuff. We were trying to hold him back, but he kept breaking through all the grace bindings. But as soon as you used pagan magic-_

 

Gabriel stared at the frozen memory of the magical shield, Lucifer’s hand pressed against it- unable to move it, unable to power through it. **_It took him longer to work out._ ** He started nodding, getting faster as the idea built in his head. Lucifer had managed to break through, yes, but he’d had to punch it for what? Half a minute? That was longer than anything else they’d seen. **_Yes! New magics always take a while to work with, not long for archangels but still, better than trying to use grace. My brothers never bothered to look into all the little branches of magic that developed on earth, they were always too wrapped up in heaven’s business._ ** His grace swirled faster, calculating energy barriers and probabilities. **_Michael would probably take even longer to work it out, he was never as flexible in his thinking as Heylel, more of a brute force kind of guy-_ **

 

_And if your brand of trickster magic could hold them for a minute-_

 

**_Then other brands of magic could probably hold them for that long too, if not longer. We just need to get a hold of as many types of magic as we can. Holy shit! This might even work!_ **

 

“We’ve got it!” Gabriel burst out loud. Dean, Bobby and Cas looked up, startled. He laughed, elated, real hope blooming bright and heady in him for the first time since this whole ordeal began. He bounced up out of his seat, striding across the living room, unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips. His chest felt so light, like he’d soar off through the ceiling if Sam’s body wasn’t tethering down here. His wings twitched and ruffled with excitement. How long had it been since he felt hopeful? Years? Decades? But here finally was a chance, not just to get them out of this mess, but to solve it, for once and for all. To get his brothers back.

 

“It’s not about power, it’s about diversity,” he explained to the watching humans. “Angelic warfare is big, it’s powerful, and it’s more destructive than a thousand frat parties armed with automatics. But it’s also got a very specific power signature. So sure, you can smite pretty much all of creation, but your defences aren’t worth bananas against anything other than other angels and demons. But! Anything else you have to design unique defences for, and you can’t do that if you’ve never even come across that magic. And let’s say you take one archangel who hasn’t been on earth since humans climbed down from the trees, and another one who’s been locked in a cage in hell for almost that long, and you make them face off with a grab-bag of earthly magics?”

 

“They won’t have a clue what they’re up against,” Dean realised.

 

“Bingo. And you kids have only just scratched the surface of what’s out there. There’s all sorts of strange powers lurking out there on the edges of the world. They might not be very powerful on their own, but together? It might just be enough to bind my brothers down for a hot minute. At least until I can snap them out of it.”

 

Gabriel eagerly watched their faces as he explained, as they went from confusion to realisation to cautious optimism. Even Cas was looking less sceptical than usual. Dean pursed his lips, nodding. “Sounds like a plan. It’s better than what we had, anyway. Bobby?”

 

“It’s better than anything we’ve had so far,” Bobby muttered to himself. “You say we’ve got a half-decent chance of holding them down long enough if we get enough people?”

 

“And enough of a variety of people. We need powers from all over.” Gabriel started to pace, unable to stand still. “We need to split up, get as many as we can onside. Cas, any angels you think you can get on this loser’s brigade?”

 

Cas tilted his head. “I can think of a few.”

 

“Good. See if you can get them on-side, as many as possible. Angels won’t do much for the surprise, but the more of our siblings we don’t have to fight, the better. I’ll see if I can get hold of a few old friends, if you catch my drift. Bobby, I’ll need you monitoring Lucifer and the angelic omens. Dean, you should stay here too.”

 

Dean scowled indignantly. “Why can’t I go with Cas?”

 

“Reign in your thirst, Deano.” Gabriel smirked as Dean spluttered indignantly, “Cassie’s gonna be flying all over the place. I thought you didn’t like travelling by Angel Air?” Dean’s face paled a little at the thought of all that flying and he subsided with a grumble. “Plus,” Gabriel pointed out, “We’ll need you here to wrangle whoever we manage to recruit.”

 

“What am I?” Dean grumbled. “Your supernatural babysitter?”

 

“Got it in one.” Another thought hit him, and he felt his enthusiastic grin slide into something more grim. “But before any of that, I’ve got an errand to run. Won’t take too long.”

 

Dean held up a hand, frowning. “Woah, woah. We ain’t got much time on the clock before doomsday here, where the hell are you going?”

 

Gabriel’s grace darkened, and some of it must have shown on Sam’s face because Dean looked suddenly wary. Bobby subtly gripped the arms of his chair. Cas shrank back instinctively as Gabriel’s wings mantled, casting shadows across the room. “Don’t you worry. I’ll get to our friends in an hour or two. But there’s something I’ve got to do first. I’ve got some justice to deliver.”

 

.o0o.

 

The apartment was dark, the lights off, but that didn’t matter. To Gabriel’s grace-enhanced vision, the place was lit up in ultraviolet colours. The dust sheets over the furniture seemed to glow in the gloom, the dust on the floor stirring where he was swinging his legs, sitting on what had been the kitchen bar. He looked around, eyes roving over the familiar shapes. The last time he’d been here, he’d been convinced that he was about to walk to his death in Elysian Fields. He’d been resigned to it. **_How times change,_ ** he thought to himself wryly.

 

_Are you sure about this?_ Sam asked him cautiously. Any other time, Gabriel would have embraced him with his grace, reassured him. But he didn’t want to drag Sam into this. This was his vengeance. There was no need to inflict the anger smouldering in him on anyone who didn’t deserve it, least of all Sam.

 

**_I’m sure. I’ve never been surer._ **

 

There was a gentle _whuff, whuff_ of wings, drawing him out of his thoughts. A gust of wind stirred the curtains and a silhouette appeared against the window, a sharp profile looking around in confusion.

 

“Michael? I don’t understand. Why have I been summoned?”

 

Gabriel stood, letting the glamour hiding his grace from view drop away. “Sorry, little sis. Not Michael this time.”

 

Naomi whipped around, blade sliding into her fingers at the potential threat. Her wings whipped out behind her, prepared to strike.

 

Then she recognised him. She gaped, genuine surprise lighting up her grace shocked-white. Her wings flickered behind her, uncertain. She took a stuttered little half-step back. “Gabriel! What… how are you alive? We thought you were dead! It’s been so long!”

 

Gabriel cocked his head, eyes glimmering at her reflection-bright out of the darkness of the apartment. The sight of her face brought the memory back to him, her true face hovering over his, the needletip gleaming as she guided it down. He forcefully pulled himself back to the present, pushing down the clenching of his vessel’s stomach. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? Almost thirty five thousand years, in fact. But I still remember it like it was yesterday.” He spread his arms, gesturing around them. “And here we are, at the end. All of Heaven’s prodigal sons returning.”

 

Naomi was still gaping at him as though she couldn’t believe her eyes. “We thought Lucifer killed you!”

 

Gabriel smiled, bittersweet as nightshade, taking a step forward. “Oh, but that’s what you wanted to think, wasn’t it? That’s what you wanted everyone to think. You and Zachariah.” Naomi froze, eyes wide as Gabriel advanced on her. “Yes, I remember. Don’t even bother lying. I know what you did.”

 

Gabriel saw her spread her wings in panic, felt her trying to take off, but his larger grace held hers down easily, a cat with a mouse. “Ah ah ah. I don’t think so.”

 

She struggled for another second, then seemed to give up. She looked back up at him, and this time her gaze was defiant. “So you know. How much do you remember?”

 

“Everything.” He cocked his head, watching as her true form shifted uncomfortably under his many-eyed gaze. “Your co-conspirator died, you know.”

 

She sneered. “Zachariah? I know. And by a mud monkey as well. He always was too prideful, too attached to Michael. He wasn’t cut out to rule but,” She shrugged dispassionately, “He was useful while he lasted.”

 

Her casual discard for her companion, for her _sibling_ , was chilling. How was it possible for her to be colder than his memories of her? Gabriel felt the feathers rising along his spine. “Do you even know what you’ve done to heaven?” He asked quietly.

 

Naomi met his eyes. “Of course I know. I don’t regret it.”

 

Gabriel’s anger boiled up through his carefully forced calm, his mouth twisting. “Why not? We were your brothers, your family!”

 

“You were our superiors,” she corrected. “We were made to fight the darkness, weren't we? Well I’ve been doing that, so much more efficiently than you archangels. I’ve made an army! No more questioning orders, no uncertainty. Just a fighting force strong enough to defeat anything that threatens our Father’s creation. First we’ll deal with Lucifer, and Michael will  bring order to the world father created. After that, we’ll crack open purgatory, and obliterate the levithan once and for all, like you and your brothers failed to do. Then, we will take the fight to Amara. She’ll never see us coming.” She cocked her head, seemingly lost in thought. “Michael will be heroically lost in the final battle, of course. He would be too hard to control without a goal, once we’re finished. But it will be worth it. Just think of it, Gabriel; no more death, no more imperfections, no more hell, no more earth. Just heaven.”

 

“No!” Gabriel snarled. “We were made to preserve the balance! Darkness and Light! Creation and destruction! Too much of either will lead to the end, you know that! The world doesn’t need more order, it only needs enough to balance out the chaos!”

 

Naomi raised her chin challengingly, her eyes flashing with restrained grace. “Don’t talk as if you know Father’s great Plan better than me! We’re all working off rumours and you know it! At least we’re doing something with it. I will save these mud monkeys and our siblings from themselves, just as Father would want.”

 

Gabriel felt his power spilling out of Sam’s vessel, filling the air around them with threatening electricity, but he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t rein his anger in. How dare she! “You presumptuous seraph. You may have fooled yourself into think you’re doing this for them, but I’ve seen this before. You’re doing this for power. What do you know of the world? Have you seen it? Lived in it? When was the last time you met a human? Because I have seen humanity, in all their glory, in all their kindness, in all their war and violence and love and hate and free will. The least of them contains more grace than the best of us can comprehend!” He stepped in close, snarling the words in her face. “You are not worthy of being called their protectors.”

 

Naomi laughed. “Fine, Gabriel, kill me! But it won’t stop them, you know!” She smiled bitterly. “The brothers you know are long gone.”

 

“We’ll see. Maybe they are, maybe not.” Gabriel stepped away again. He couldn’t let her see his fear of that. “But I won’t kill you. Death isn’t a good enough fate for you.” Gabriel pulled the three rings out of his pocket, rolling them between his fingers, and watched Naomi’s eyes go wide in helpless, frozen horror. Her struggles to escape his grip on her grace grew again.

 

“No!” She gasped. “Gabriel! Please!”

 

“Too late for that, little sister. You should have thought of that when you were digging around in my brain with that needle of yours. While I was begging you for mercy. Who knows? Maybe you made me into this. Turned me into something vengeful.” He pulled out Death’s ring, watching as it immediately pulled the other rings towards it. He let the rings fall to the floor. The device landed with a heavy _clunk,_ disproportionate for its size, the ripples spreading out through the firmament of the earth as the ancient magic was activated. Then Gabriel spoke, letting the grace of the Messenger ring through Sam’s borrowed voice. “ _Bvtmon tabges babalon.”_

 

There was a rumble. A tremor ran through the ground. Then the floorboards between them crumbled, sucked down into darkness. The pit yawned at their feet. Gabriel could feel it, the desolation of what was down there, the screaming of damned souls echoing up from the pit, and he knew that Naomi could too. Sam shivered inside, drawing backwards instinctively into his mind, and Gabriel drew him close to protect him.

 

Gabriel spoke to Naomi over the howling of the void. “This is what your meddling subjected Lucifer to for the last thirty five millennia. Poetic, don’t you think?”

 

The whites were showing in her eyes, her wings jerking in a last-ditch attempt to escape. “No!” But it was too late. Gabriel gave a vicious shove, pushing with his grace. She pitched forwards, her scream echoing and echoing before it was finally swallowed. Gabriel kept his eyes closed, looking away as the whistling of the wind slowly died into silence.

 

When he opened them, she was gone. The apartment was eerily quiet. All that was left was the rings, lying innocently on the floor. Gabriel bent, picking them up, letting them roll loosely into Sam’s broad palm. He had expected to feel feel… something. Maybe vicious anger, maybe righteous victory. But there was only grief. He was just... empty.

 

“She deserved it,” he said out loud, his voice lost. “She had to be locked up, she was dangerous and manipulative. She hurt so many of my siblings. She was planning to hurt more. So why do I…?”

 

Sam brushed against his grace, speaking quietly. _She was still your sister. Even if she betrayed you. Whatever you had to do, it was always going to hurt. I’m sorry._

 

**_Is this what it felt like? After you killed Brady?_ ** He asked. It was like someone had gutted him. Like they’d pulled out everything inside and filled him back up with regret for what could have been.

 

_Yeah,_ Sam said quietly. _But neither of them were the people we knew anymore._ He pushed against Gabriel’s grace until he opened up, wrapping his soul around him. The warmth didn’t stop the emptiness, but it soothed something else inside him. _Let’s go home._

 

Gabriel spread his wings, taking off, not bothering to look around at the apartment. There was nothing left for him here. He wasn’t coming back.

 

It was time to do some recruiting.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In compensation for the wait, here, take a SUPER LONG CHAPTER!!! YAY!!!
> 
> Again, please note that recent canon doesn't apply to this fic (cos I can't write that fast lol) so if a lot of it has been utterly jossed, please ignore!
> 
> Enjoy :)

 

It was evening by the time they got back to Bobby’s house. 

Sam had been worried about Gabriel after they had finished dealing with Naomi, but they had both had to quickly push the incident down. Finding allies wasn’t simple. Many supernatural beings had smelled the apocalypse coming a mile off, and were therefore laying low, and very reluctant to emerge and fight. 

But after a frustrating day of tracking down leads, they were finally close to someone that Gabriel had been particularly keen to contact.

Gabriel back-flapped for balance, but he still staggered as they landed in the kitchen, bringing the smell of Norway with them. He was grinning, not stopping as he strode towards Bobby’s office. “Look alive, people!”

Dean had started out of a doze as they appeared, but he quickly pulled himself back together, jumping up from the kitchen table to follow them. “You’ve found someone? Who is it? You’ve been gone for hours!” 

“‘Found’ is maybe an exaggeration,” Gabriel admitted, bending down to dig around in the nearest cabinet without turning. “But we’ve got a lead. Where’s Singer got to? I need Gramps for something.”

“Here,” Bobby grumbled from the doorway, “and less of the ‘gramps’ from you, boy.”

Gabriel turned to grin at him. “Bobster! There you are. Got any meadowsweet?”

Bobby rolled his eyes heavily, not bothering to argue. “Third drawer down, as long as you never call me ‘Bobster’ again.” Gabriel turned back, rummaging until he found the plastic sachet with a dried bunch of flowers at the bottom. He made a noise of success, wings shuffling against Sam’s back in satisfaction.

_ Is that the last ingredient? _ Sam asked, getting caught up in Gabriel’s excitement for what they were about to do, making their heart beat faster. 

**_Yep! Good to go._ ** Gabriel turned them back towards their audience. “Anyone up for a field trip? I need some extra hands for this ritual.” 

Bobby nodded. 

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean looked back and forth between them in betrayal.

Gabriel shifted restlessly, and Sam couldn’t blame him. He felt the same impatience thrumming through their veins. Doing it this way probably wasn’t the most intelligent thing they’d ever done, but what the hell. They couldn’t afford Dean’s surliness at the moment.  _ Just grab him, Gabe _ , Sam urged.

“Great! Let’s go.” Gabriel stretched out a hand towards Dean before he could object, and Sam felt his wings spreading up and out from his back, feathers fanning in preparation for flight. 

Dean ducked out from under his reaching fingers. “Woah there! Hold up. Where are you taking us?”

“What, don’t trust me, Deano?” Dean scowled at him. Gabriel sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’re going to Yellowstone, happy now?”

“Not really,” Dean grumbled. “What’s in Yellowstone?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out. Now come on! Moonlight’s wasting!” Gabriel lent forwards fast and grabbed Dean before he could protest further, beating his wings with an audible  _ thump  _ of displaced air.

Gabriel alighted them as gently as he could in the middle of a clearing, just to the left of an enormous stone slab, the runes on it just visible in the moonlight. Bobby swore as he wobbled on his feet. Dean immediately staggered away, groaning theatrically and giving Gabriel the stink eye as he rubbed his wrist. “Ask before you grab next time you overgrown chicken!”

“Sure I will, if I want Lucifer and Michael to be finished with their standoff before we’re even out the door. You mind setting up these candles, or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?”

Dean flipped him the bird and stayed where he was, bent over, muttering about how much he hated angel air. Bobby rolled his eyes and picked up the candles, setting them out on the altar at the compass points. Gabriel busied them with conjuring a bucket of paint-and-blood and starting to adorn the nearby trees with symbols. Sam tried to follow what they all meant in Gabriel’s thoughts, but the images were all flashing past too fast for him to grasp. He gave up. But unlike Dean, he knew exactly what they’d come to this clearing to summon.

_ Are you sure he’ll come?  _ Sam asked.  _ The rest of them didn’t seem very… enthusiastic.  _ Gabriel paused in painting a complex glyph onto the stone at the centre of the clearing.  **_As sure as I can be. Hel’s been in the underworld for a while, so she's out of reach. Jorge was in the bottom of the Mariana Trench last time I checked, so reaching him would be more difficult. Fen is our best bet at short notice._ **

Gabriel rolled their shoulders to try and dissipate some of the nervous anticipation, taking a deep breath of the cool night air and letting his eyes roam. Sam could smell the heavy scent of loam and the sharp, bitter bite of pine. The night was thick in the trees, but Gabriel's enhanced vision cut through it, lighting everything up in unnatural, almost neon hues. In the middle Sam could see Dean muttering under his breath like a reluctant participant in a rave. 

“Fenrir? Really?” Dean straightened up from where he’d been reading the runes.

Gabriel turned back to painting up the trees. “Yes, really. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. Much.”

“So you're sure this giant wolf freak is friendly?” Dean called. 

Sam felt Gabriel bristle where he was finishing up with the tree runes. “Careful who you're calling a ‘freak’, Winchester. That's my kid you're talking about.”

“Your kid? What, you’re his dad?” There was a note of incredulousness there, and Sam felt Gabriel’s irritation deepen into defensiveness. 

“More like his mom,” Gabriel snarked back.

They could see well enough in the gloom to see the way Dean’s eyes widened before dropping back into his usual unimpressed mask. Even Bobby paused in his ritual preparations. “Did you really give birth to a giant wolf? How?” Dean challenged.

Gabriel pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Winchester.”

“Will you two stow your crap? We've got a ritual to perform here,” Bobby grumbled from behind them, shoving a bowl of ingredients into Sam’s arms. Gabriel, with Sam’s permission, sliced their palm and let the blood drip into the bowl before healing it with a warm flash of grace.

_ Are you really their mother? _ Unlike Dean’s question, there was only curiosity under Sam’s question, so Gabriel answered honestly.

**_Of course. They’re all my kids._ ** He handed over a stack of memories, thick with complicated emotions. Sam flicked through them, seeing good times and bad, love and heartache in equal measure. 

_ Huh _ .

“What about Sammy?” Dean was still speaking. “Doesn't he get a say in what his live-in boyfriend summons?”

Sam wasn't impressed.  _ He just wants me to disagree with you. _

**_Amen to that, Samwise._ ** “Sam says you’re an idiot and you need to check your attitude,” Gabriel commented out loud, stirring the ingredients together.

_ Gabriel! Not what I said!  _ Sam swatted at him halfheartedly. They could do without Dean and Gabriel baiting each other tonight. Gabriel just grinned, knowing that was like waving a red rag at a bull.

“Anyway!” Interrupted Bobby before Dean could retaliate with something sharper, “Sometime tonight?”

Sam could feel Gabriel’s grace swirling, readying itself for another insult as Gabriel’s trickster smirk spread across his face, and he gave him another shove, harder this time.  _ Hey, cut it out. You and Dean can snap at each other as much as you want once we’ve got the apocalypse wrapped up. Come on. _

**_You’re no fun._ ** But Gabriel relented easily, his grace losing its sharp edge, softening against Sam’s soul. He turned them to face the darkness between the trees, clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders before beginning. 

The enochian words rolled from Sam's tongue smooth as rich wine. Their meaning was twisted and complex, calling to shared blood and shared power. Halfway through the intonation Gabriel switched to old Norse, which Sam only just recognised. Finally, with a click of Sam's fingers, Gabriel set the contents of the metal bowl blazing, the sudden light blinding the humans to the dark outside the summoning circle. In the flickering flames, the trees seemed to stretch high above their heads, hooking clawed fingers towards the stars. 

Finally Gabriel fell silent. The flame sputtered out. The rind rustled the lowest branches of the trees.

Dean snorted. “Guess he's not answering his ph-” Gabriel’s fingers snapped, cutting his voice off mid-word, leaving him to gape and scowl at him. 

The darkness and silence seemed to deepen, stretching out to muffle everything else like a huge, black cape. Not even the branches were rustling any more. Gabriel kept Sam's eyes facing forwards, but Sam could still hear Dean shifting nervously behind them.

Then, out of the dark there came the sound of quiet padding. It was the sound of heavy footfalls on soft needles, the quiet shivery whisper of fur against branches. Sam could sense a great presence in the trees, getting closer, making the hairs rise across his arms. If it hadn’t been for Gabriel’s excitement, Sam might have been afraid. A pair of eyes glistened gold in the scant starlight, watching them from the shadows. 

Gabriel stepped forwards, grinning. “ Fenrisúlfr!”

The wolf stepped out of the woods. No matter how many other things he had faced, Sam felt a shiver of unease from some deep-down, animal part of himself. Something that acknowledged that this creature was something beyond the natural, something that urged him to run before the hunter became the hunted. 

The wolf was immense, easily the size of a horse, the shadows of the forest clinging to its dark fur and trailing after it like wisps of smoke. Despite its size, it’s huge paws were silent on the forest floor, its presence growing until it filled the clearing.  _ “Father,” _ the wolf’s tongue dangled from his mouth in a bear-trap grin,  _ “it’s been a while.” _

The wolf’s voice was deep as the earth. Its voice seemed to come from everywhere, from the trees and the ground itself, but the wolf’s mouth didn't move except for the long tongue creeping out to lick its lips.  _ How did he know?  _ Sam wondered.  _ Could they smell Gabriel on him? _

**_My kids always know,_ ** Gabriel chuckled before saying out loud, “hey there Fen. How's tricks? Still hanging out in Scandinavia?”

_ “Yes, still there when I’m not being summoned. They tend to be friendlier to our kind than these parts.” _ He eyed Bobby, who bristled at the accusation but didn't say anything. Fenrir turned his attention back to Gabriel.  _ “I do hear things, though. Stirrings. Whispers of the apocalypse. Many of my friends have been going into hiding, and advising me to do the same. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?” _ One great dark eye fixed on them unwaveringly.  _ “I thought the apocalypse was supposed to be my job. And what's with the new vessel?” _

“Oh, this is just a holdover,” Gabriel gestured down at Sam's body. “He's on loan until I find something else. He's roomy, but he's not quite my style.”

_ You make me sound like a hire car,  _ Sam complained teasingly to cover the nervousness that still nipped at the edges of his thoughts. 

**_If you were a hire car, I’d be hanging pink fuzzy dice in you. Wait, that sounds like a euphemism. You gonna let me hang my dice in you Sammy?_ **

Sam snorted.  _ I was going to until you said it like that. _

**_You love me really!_ **

Gabriel refocused on Fenrir. “But you were right about the apocalypse. Heaven’s, this time, not the Norse pantheon. So, Fen. Meet Dean Winchester, he's much more pleasant when he has the tape over his mouth, trust me. He's the one the eyes in the sky have earmarked for Michael. The sharp suit I'm wearing at the minute is his brother Sam, also Lucifer’s vessel, so big bro’s not happy with me either. And this ornery old trucker is Bobby Singer. Not much, but this is Team Anti-Apocalypse so far.” 

“Team Free Will,” Dean said stubbornly, his eyes still not moving from Fenrir’s hulking form.

Gabriel pointed at him. “Don’t make me regret taking off that gag, Winchester, or I’ll make it physical next time. One of the ball ones with the strap. I’m thinking red.” He turned back to Fenrir over the sound of Dean’s spluttering. Sam rolled his internal eyes at both of them. “So, kiddo, it's a suicide mission with a high likelihood of certain death and a good chance of total obliteration if we fail. What do you say?”

There was a beat, and then Fenrir’s lips curled back to show even more of his teeth as his grin turned feral.  _ “Count me in.” _

Gabriel clapped his hands. “And Team Free Will is on the up. Go team!”

...

Back at Bobby’s, all four of them stood outside, watching Fenrir sniff  around the cars in the light spilling from Bobby’s back door, tail wagging. Sam didn’t think that Bobby had taken his eyes off the giant wolf since he first appeared from the trees, but Dean hadn’t stopped mouthing off since they got back, and from the irritable rolling of the grace inside him it was more than starting to get on Gabriel’s nerves. Sam didn’t blame him.

 

“So you’ve been out all day looking for help defeating Lucifer, and we’ve got one giant dog. Great. Is that it?” 

 

Fenrir turned towards them, licking his chops. “ _ Can I eat him, father? _ ”

 

“I wouldn’t stop you.” Gabriel turned back to Dean with irritation. “Of course this isn’t it! I’m not a Winchester, I’m not gonna try and fight the apocalypse with one ally. This is just the beginning.”

 

Dean crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? Where are these allies, then?”

 

Gabriel’s grace sparked with annoyance, and he opened his mouth to snap something barbed back, but Sam gently pulled him back.  _ Let me deal with him. _

 

Gabriel sank back with a relief.  **_Thanks, Sam._ **

 

Sam turned to his brother with a scowl and rolled their eyes. “Go to bed, Dean.”

 

“What?”

 

“You always get like this when you’re tired. When’s the last time you slept?” Dean’s bloodshot eyes darted sideways, having to think about it. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted mulishly.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Dean dithered, warring between his obvious exhaustion and his stubborn insistence on staying up until he burnt out. Finally, he turned back to the house. “Fine, but you better not let him eat my shoes while I’m asleep, okay?”

 

With one last distrustful glance at Fenrir, Bobby followed Dean inside, muttering about shuteye. Sam felt Gabriel deflate as the door closed, his disappointment at Sam’s family’s rejection of his son palpable.  _ Hey, they’ll warm up to him _ , Sam reassured him gently.  _ They’re just not used to being around supernatural beings they’re not trying to shoot. _

 

**_They’ll have too,_ ** Gabriel turned back to Fenrir, who was watching them intently with shining eyes.  **_We’ll have stranger than my son knocking on our door by the end of this week, if everything goes to plan._ **

 

As soon as the door was closed, Fenrir perked up. To Sam’s surprise, his aura of restrained ferociousness seemed to melt away as he trotted eagerly towards them. He stopped short and bowed forwards, paws spread like an oversize puppy begging to play, one ear flopping over endearingly, tail whipping. 

 

**_Finally!_ ** Feeling Gabriel’s eagerness, Sam got out of the way, laughing as Gabriel pounced, grabbing the huge wolf around the neck and using his unnatural strength to flip the immense creature onto its back, dodging the heavy paws that reached up to swipe lazily at him.

 

The playful wrestling match ended with Gabriel pinned down, an enormous tongue bathing them in slobbery dog kisses. “Okay! Enough, enough, I give in!” Fenrir stepped back a little, then settled down with a heavy whuff. Sam would have smiled at the familial love in Gabriel’s grace. Gabriel sighed, pulling himself until they were sitting upright, patting the furry haunch he was leaning against. “Yeah, I missed you too, kid.” 

 

Sam thought privately about how he’d never seen John look at either him or Dean the way that Gabriel looked at Fenrir, with fond parental pride.  _ You really did, didn’t you? _ He wondered.

 

**_Of course. I love my kids, all of them. Most of them are all grown up and living their own lives now, so I don’t see as much of them as I’d like to, but yeah. It’s always good to see them again._ **

 

_ Huh.  _ They sat there in the night silence for a few minutes, Gabriel winding Sam’s fingers through his son’s thick fur. An owl hooted somewhere far off. 

 

_ “There is one member of our team who I haven’t been properly introduced to yet,”  _ Fenrir commented lazily.

 

“Oh?”

 

_ “You’re borrowing his body.”  _

 

“Oh! Yeah!” Gabriel pushed Sam forwards, despite his protests. **_Come on, Sammy, be sociable!_ **

 

Sam gave him an internal glare. When he blinked his eyes, Fenrir was watching him with an amused expression like he was well aware of what was going on in Sam’s head.  _ “You’re Father’s vessel? _ ” Fenrir asked him.

 

“Uh, yeah. Hi. Sam Winchester.” He almost held out his hand to shake but stopped himself just in time. He felt himself flush. Gabriel laughed, full of warm affection.  **_Father above, I love you. You’re so awkward._ **

 

Then he immediately froze up, like he hadn’t meant to let that slip out. Sam felt his blush deepening, and he failed at keeping the grin off his face despite himself. Something in his stomach fluttered desperately.

 

Before either of them could break the sudden mental silence, Fenrir rolled one huge eye down to look directly at them with an appraising gaze. Sam realised with a shock that they were a familiar shade of golden brown.  _ “Well met, Sam Winchester.”  _ The wolf grinned, like he’d just had a realisation, exposing canines as long as Sam’s hands.  _ “It’s just as well you and father are sharing a body. I’ve seen him look at people like that before. If you were in separate vessels, I would be worried that I’d be getting new siblings.” _

 

Gabriel reached out and swatted him on the side with a  _ thump _ , but Fen just laughed his rumbling laugh, his flanks shaking.

 

Sam felt his old curiosity rising to the surface. “Do you have a human form as well?” Then it occurred that asking that might be rude. “Sorry if that’s personal or something,” he hastily added.

 

_ “I do have a human form.”  _ Fenrir didn’t appear to have taken offence.  _ “I prefer my wolf one, though. Walking on two legs is ridiculous, your balance is terrible! And you humans have a strange obsession with wearing clothes.  _ His nose wrinkled in disgust. _ If I want to come into your dwelling I’ll just assume a smaller form, I think. Will that be acceptable?” _

 

“Oh, yeah, of course. Thanks.”

 

They sat there talking for another hour as the stars slowly wheeled around them, Sam getting more confident with asking questions about the myths of Fenrir and his siblings and Fenrir and Gabriel eagerly answering.

 

Eventually, though, Gabriel took over and shoved himself out of Fenrir’s warm fur with a reluctant groan, shaking out Sam’s long limbs where they’d started to go to sleep. “As much as I hate to say this, the party’s over kids. We need to get back to work.”

 

_ “Noooo,” _ Fenrir groaned like a reluctant child, and Gabriel laughed and dodged the heavy paw that he swung at him to knock him back down again. “Get off, mutt! I need to go research.”

 

Fenrir huffed and curled up. Gabriel spent one last glance at his son, the corners of Sam’s eyes crinkling, then turned back to the house. Sam sighed as well, nearly as disappointed as Fenrir. They had work to do.

 

.o0o.

 

“Why are we walking all the way out here? Couldn’t we  have summoned Rowena in the kitchen?” Sam asked Gabriel as they walked towards the back of Bobby’s lot early the next morning. 

 

They had spent the night buried in lore books, and Sam felt Gabriel’s confidence that they could gain another ally this morning. Which led them here, while the sun was barely up, the morning chill still in the air as they trudged along the overgrown track. This was where he remembered playing with Dean when they were young, dodging in and out of the maze of cars. He could still recall the smell of the ground baking to dust in the late summer sun, warmed rubber and the sound of their laughter. 

 

Fifteen years on, and the cars out here were little more than rusted wrecks. The weeds were taller, the land already starting to be reclaimed by the scrubby woodland reaching its green fingers out from behind Bobby’s house. He eyed a car as they passed. A sapling had pushed its way through the shattered glass of the windscreen, reaching towards the light.

 

**_If we want to summon Rowena, first off, we have to get out of range of Bobby’s wards,_ ** Gabriel explained in answer to his question. **_I’ve gotta give it to the old man, he’s got some comprehensive protection on this place, it’s tighter than a duck’s ass. You couldn’t sneak a demonic mouse in here. How Crowley keeps getting in is a mystery. Also, I know Rowena. She’ll be more likely to agree if she doesn’t feel pressured. If she catches a hint of a trap, she’ll be gone. No, don’t stop here, go further. Into the trees._ **

 

Sam hopped the boundary fence, wading through the grass and dense undergrowth on the other side. It thinned out as the canopy above then got denser, but Sam kept going, heeding Gabriel’s silent urges. Finally they got to a small clearing where the light shone down green through the leaves, a small stream chattering out of the dimness under the trees before plunging back into the woods just as quickly, and Sam felt Gabriel’s satisfaction.

 

**_Perfect. This should do._ **

 

Sam let him take over, stepping to the back of his mind to watch with interest as Gabriel set a bowl on the ground, dropping in the match before saying a few short sentences. Sam waited with anticipation for the pop of displaced air, or a flash of smoke, or anything that might signal Rowena’s arrival, but there was nothing. Gabriel turned, apparently not surprised by this, and plopped down with his back against a tree, letting Sam’s legs stretch out and leaning back against the trunk.

 

**_Stop being so on edge there, Sammy boy. She’ll get here when she gets here. She’s probably finishing up whatever she was doing before we called._ **

 

Sam couldn’t help wanting to look around impatiently.  _ I thought the point of summonings was that they came right away? _

 

Gabriel snorted. **_Only if you’re using the ones that hunters use. Do you know how rude those things are? It’s uncomfortable to be dragged across the country. This spell we’re using now is the equivalent of ringing the doorbell. Hunter summonings are like if I broke into your home, smashed all your crockery, shit on the carpet, then got you in a headlock and dragged you wherever you wanted me to go. Trust me, if you ever want to meet peacefully with something and request assistance? Don’t use a hunter summoning._ **

 

Sam thought back on all the times they’d summoned creatures with a newfound appreciation of the fact that they hadn’t killed him on sight.  _ I had no idea! _

 

**_I know you didn’t, that’s- she’s coming._ **

 

Sam felt it too, a rising prickle rising over his soul. The world warped somewhere out of his human vision, then flexed back, sending ripples out towards him like a disturbance in a pool of still water. She was close.

 

Sure enough, the next second Rowena stepped out of the trees, a mild grimace on her face as she picked her way through the forest debris in her heels. “Here again? Just once, would it be too much to be summoned to a five star restaurant?” She looked up at them, and when she realised who exactly had summoned her, her expression changed from mild annoyance to delight. “Loki!” She purred. “Back for more already?”

 

Gabriel chuckled. “You know me. I couldn’t stay away.” He got up from the ground, stretching. “Sorry about the summoning, but you changed your number.”

 

“I did indeed. Too many people calling to ask for favours, isn’t a lady allowed a little time off now and then?” 

 

“Time off? In this economy?” Gabriel laughed, then let Sam’s face fall into something more serious. “Rowena. I have something to ask.”

 

Rowena’s eyes darkened in disappointment and wariness, any levity falling away. She huffed in annoyance, hooking off her heels and striding barefoot towards the creek, throwing the words over her shoulder. “I know what you’re going to ask me. But unless I’m wrong and this really is a booty call, I can’t.” 

 

Gabriel walked after her. “Why not?”

 

“I never thought you were so stupid, Loki!” She whirled, and Sam saw that her mouth was pursed unhappily. She gestured at him up and down with jerky, agitated movements. “Getting involved with the judeo-christian apocalypse is suicide! You’re a pagan deity. You’re powerful, yes, but nothing compared to two archangels with the backing of the entire hosts of heaven and hell!  _ Archangels,  _ Loki! You must have heard the stories. They’ll rip you apart, and anyone who stands with you!” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, red curls swishing wildly around her face. “I won’t do it. Unless you have an actual chance, for instance, oh, another archangel stashed somewhere, I’m not going to throw my life away like that.”

 

Sam felt Gabriel’s smile growing slowly across his face. “Well, about that…”

 

Rowena gave him a look of disbelieving contempt. “Och, don’t tell me that you have an archangel. Like I’d believe that. I’m not an idiot, Loki.”

 

Gabriel gave a considering hum. “Rowena, have you ever heard of Gabriel?”

 

Rowena suddenly looked wary. “Of course. The fourth archangel. Charged with justice and judgement. And, if the rumours are right, very, very long dead. What about him?”

 

“What if he wasn’t as dead as everyone thought? What if we had him on side?”

 

Rowena laughed, high and derisive. “Ha ha Loki, hilarious. If you’ve got him, where is he? Hiding behind a tree? Have you got him stashed in your jacket pock…”

 

Her voice trailed off as Gabriel spread his wings wide, throwing their shadows against the trees behind them and letting just a hint of grace shine out through his eyes. When the light faded, Rowena was gaping, eyes wide. “You. You. I… I don’t believe it.”

 

Gabriel grinned down at her. “You’d better believe it, sweet cheeks.”

 

Rowena recovered quickly from the shock. She spent several long minutes looking at him, and Sam could see the reevaluation going on behind her eyes, every memory she had of him being examined under new light. “Were you Loki all along?” She inquired.

 

Gabriel nodded. “Right from the start. Loki did exist. It was just that he was always me.”

 

Rowena leaned forwards, an eagre gleam forming in her eye. “So, how does an archangel become a pagan god? I’m curious.”

 

“Oh, the usual. Family drama, running away from home, getting in with a crowd Daddy would disapprove of. Pretty much your story, Red.”

 

She smirked. “I doubt that’s all there is to it. Now this is a story I’d pay to hear.” 

 

“You’re right about that, and I will explain later. But not here. Too many things said outside the wards, if you catch my drift. So.” Gabriel prompted. “We have an archangel. And we have a plan that holds water, if I say so myself. Would you say we have a chance now?”

 

Rowena pursed her lips, looking Gabriel up and down, but it was definitely more considering than before, even if she still looked uncertain. “I’d say that given the other options seem to involve total annihilation either way…” She trailed off.

 

Sam felt Gabriel reach out with his grace as he snapped, summoning an item to his hand. A thick book appeared, the Norse runes carved into the leather bindings ridged against his fingertips. He held it out to her, and she took it, eyes going wide as she stared down at the cover. “Don’t think of it as bribery, more like… a down payment for helping us all get out of this alive.”

 

She turned a page. “These spells are… powerful. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Gabriel grinned at her. “That’s pagan magic for you. It’s yours.”

 

Sam felt a stab of alarm.  _ You’re giving her a spellbook!?  _

 

**_Cool your jets, Samsquatch. She’s right, they’re powerful, but the only spells in that book are for hiding and protection. A couple of heavy duty healing charms. There’s no way even Rowena can do anything more with it than keep herself out of harm’s way._ **

 

Gabriel nudged his mind forward, pointing out the swirling currents of emotion that were clear in the air between them, the thick undercurrent of fear that ran under everything Rowena said or did.  _ She just wants to feel safe,  _ Sam realised.

 

Gabriel was still looking at her fondly.  **_I’m sure she’d love to have a shot at world domination too, but yeah. Most of the time, that’s what everyone wants. To keep themselves safe. Or their loved ones._ **

 

Rowena ran her hand for one last time over the page, and then she gently closed the book. She looked up at them, resigned. “There’s no other way?”

 

“None.” 

 

“And I’ll be free to leave, after you’re done?”

 

“You have my word.”

 

Rowena bit her lip, her fingers stroking reverently over the leather. Sam stirred, restless, but Gabriel gently shushed him.

 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” She narrowed her eyes at them. “But I swear, Loki, if you managed to get me killed, I will come back as a poltergeist and haunt you for the rest of eternity.”

 

Gabriel grinned. “Sounds fair to me.” He clapped his hands. “Alright! Let’s get back before Dean eats all the bacon.”

 

They walked back towards the house, chatting amicably, and Sam was pleasantly surprised to find that she included him in their conversation. As Gabriel had predicted, they walked back into the kitchen just in time to see Dean dishing up an inhuman portion of bacon for himself.

 

“Lay up another seat, Deano, Red’s joining the party.”

 

Bobby glanced up from his own portion, flicked over a page of the book sitting next to him and wordlessly pulled out the chair next to himself. Rowena smirked and dropped a small curtsy before accepting.

 

“Why, Robert! I never thought you’d be the one to offer a lady a seat!”

 

Bobby grunted. “Just ‘cos I live with these two doesn’t mean I got no manners. I wasn’t born in a barn.”

 

Meanwhile, Dean was scowling at her, gripping the pan more tightly and looking less than pleased. “Her again.” 

 

Rowena showed no sign of having heard him, but Gabriel frowned at Dean. “Yes, her again!” He pulled Dean slightly aside as Rowena settled herself in. “What kind of beings did you think I was gonna be calling up, huh? The tooth fairy? The Easter bunny?” 

 

Dean grimaced at them. “I dunno!” 

 

“Then quit it with the attitude, buddy. We’ve got a lot more to come.”

 

Dean grumbled reluctant acquiescence. “Alright, alright. I’ll be friendly as long as they are. I will!” He insisted when Gabriel raised a skeptical eyebrow. Then he raised the frying pan. “Hey, do you want bacon?”

 

Sam jostled to the front. “Thanks, Dean, but I can barely cope with sugar, I think bacon-”

 

They were all startled by a ferocious snarl from behind them. Rowena shrieked, and Sam spun around to see Fenrir growling in the doorway, fur bristling. 

 

“ _ You! Why are you here?” _

 

There was flurry of movement, and then Fenrir had Rowena off her chair, her neck between his enormous jaws. Sam froze. The playful wolf of the night before was gone, a ferocious beast in its place. Magic radiated off him, power pouring out into the room, making the crockery clatter together in the drying rack and the lightbulb flicker. Cautiously, Rowena tried to move, but she froze again when Fenrir snarled. “ _ Don’t even think about it.” _

 

Gabriel carefully nudged Sam aside.  **_Let me deal with this, Sammy._ ** Sam let him, retreating carefully to the back. “Fen, put her down. You don't know where she’s been,” he drawled.

 

Fenrir’s snarl grew quieter, but his jaws tightened. Rowena let out a little squeak.

 

“Fen.” There was a supernatural crackle to Gabriel’s words this time. “Put. Her. Down.”

 

With one last growl, Fenrir slowly released her. She staggered back and away. The growl kept rumbling from deep in his chest, golden eyes still watching her as he snarled.  _ “Do not test me, witch. You tried to bind me once, and I can assure you that you won’t survive a second attempt.” _

 

“Quit it.” Gabriel walked over, scowling, Sam’s height letting him tower over them. “For now, you’re on the same team. You came here with the promise to work as a group, so do it. I don’t care what kind of beef you two have with each other, you’re gonna stow the baggage until we’re off this flight. Capiche?” He glared at them both, letting just a hint of grace flicker in his eyes.

 

Fenrir licked his jowls like he was trying to clean a nasty taste from between his teeth, his eyes never leaving Rowena.  _ “Yes, father. I capiche.” _

 

“Good. Red?” Rowena just massaged the red marks on her neck, her narrowed eyes fixed on Fenrir’s still-hackled form. Sam could actually see the thoughts of bloody revenge effervescing off her like steam. “Rowena,” Gabriel said warningly.

 

“Fine. I’ll tolerate the mutt. But the first time he tries to kill me in his sleep…” She let the sentence hang threateningly. Fenrir’s eyes narrowed back into angry slits, one lip lifting in a snarl to expose his teeth. Inside, Gabriel gave Sam a frustrated groan.

 

**_They’re worse than Dean! And that’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d say, trust me. Father above, it’s like dealing with five-year-olds. I’ll be putting them in time-out next!_ **

 

Unexpectedly, a voice came from behind them. “Go on, you’ve got more allies to convince today. I’ll deal with them.”

 

Gabriel turned and raised Sam’s eyebrows into a more incredulous expression than Sam had ever managed. “You? Dean Winchester, human, will stop a six-hundred-year-old witch and a giant lupine nephil demigod from ripping each other apart?”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I will! What, you think I can’t manage some abrasive personalities and anger issues? You should have seen Sammy when he was a teenager. Now  _ that  _ was bad.” Sam groaned in embarrassment.

 

Gabriel threw his hands up. “Fine, but if I get back here and the house is a pile of rubble, it’s on your shoulders!”

 

“Sure.” Dean turned to the wolf and the witch, both still glaring at one another. “Alright!” He barked at them. “Kitchen rules. No fighting, no growling, no combat spells. I hear a peep out of either of you, both of you get doused in holy water and put in the yard until you figure out how to act like people again.” 

 

Rowena pursed her lips, like she was trying to figure out how much she could get away with. Dean raised the jug of water next to himself menacingly. “You think I’m joking?”

 

Rowena sniffed at him, but she did stop scowling at Fenrir, sitting down in her chair again. 

 

Fenrir was watching Dean, head cocked. He sniffed the air and his ears perked a little.  _ “If we behave, will we get bacon?” _ He rumbled.

 

Dean put the pan back on the gas and reached to get another packet out of the fridge, a grin starting to spread across his face. “Hell yeah, you’ll get bacon.”

 

Fenrir wasn’t smiling, but Sam could see his tail wagging across the floor, out of sight.

 

**_Hmm. Well, whadda you know. Maybe he_ ** **can** **_manage them after all,_ ** Gabriel mused to him. His thoughts turned teasing.  **_I suppose he did have to deal with you as a kid. You must have been unbearable!_ **

 

_ Hey! _

 

.o0o.

 

Gabriel would have thought that, as short as they were on friends and allies, the Winchesters would be prepared to take all comers in the fight against the apocalypse. Apparently not.

 

_ Gabriel, no! _

 

Gabriel paused in the middle of a particularly complicated rune.  **_Why not?_ **

 

_ We know Crowley! He’ll screw us over as soon as we turn our backs on him. _

 

**_Of course he will, he’s a demon._ ** Gabriel tried to soothe him.  **_They’re the most predictable creatures on the planet. And you boys know him too, you’ve worked with him before. Sure, once all this has blown over he’ll be back at our throats again, but for now we have the best chance of coming out the other end of this shitstorm with our heads still attached to our necks. He knows that. He's not stupid. And if he decides to plot a little mutiny, well._ ** Gabriel grinned.  **_I_ ** **am** **_an archangel. He would be dead before he even thought of trying, trust me._ **

 

Sam subsided into grumbling silence, allowing Gabriel to focus fully on carving the devil’s trap into the concrete floor. Really, the hunter ought to have trusted by now that Gabriel knew what he was doing. Especially with Crowley.  He’d known the demon for centuries, and he wasn’t all that hard to predict once you knew which buttons to press. Crowley had a plethora of soft spots.

 

Once he was finished, he paused, fingers poised to snap. Because as much as he was sure, he wanted Sam to be sure as well.  **_I know what I’m doing. You trust me?_ **

 

Gabriel sensed Sam’s grudging smile. _ Yeah, I trust you.  _ He sighed, drawing himself together. _ Let’s get this started, then. Wait, isn’t that a hunter summoning? _

 

Gabriel smirked. **_Yeah. I don’t like Crowley_** **that** ** _much._**

 

Sam barked a laugh. Gabriel snapped his fingers, igniting the summoning ingredients with a flash of grace. As the flames died to a simmer, there was a ripple in the air, a loud  _ crack _ , and suddenly, there was movement inside the circle. 

 

“Hey, who the hell do you think you… oh, bollocks. Not you again.”

 

The short, suited man stood awkwardly in the devil’s trap with a bottle in one hand, a glass in the the other and the guilty expression of a child caught stealing from the liquor cabinet. Behind him loomed something else, what had once been a human soul warped and stretched by hell into long sinuous limbs and spiralling horns. A pair of eyes glowed hellfire red from the middle of the morass, shining through where it was crouched within its vessel.

 

_ Ugh! God, he's so ugly! _ Sam’s instinctual disgust at the demon’s true form brought a smile to Gabriel’s face as he stepped forwards.

 

“Crowley! My favourite agent of evil. Long time no see. How are the hellhound puppies?”

 

Crowley squinted suspiciously at him, bat-like wings twitching out of human sight at his confinement. “...Loki? I thought you were lying low. Or dead. I heard rumours on the grapevine about some sort of slaughter at some rundown motel. And I hate to ask, but what's with the Winchester suit?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, stepping closer. “You know how it is. You almost get shanked, you hitch a lift, and before you know it, you’re roommates.”

 

Crowley was still looking confused, though. “I thought pagans needed their own vessels? Moose there is already an angelic vessel, and I would have thought that might put you off.” Even as Gabriel scrambled to find another excuse, he could already see the combinations clicking into place behind the demon’s eyes. “What are you really? I should have known I wouldn’t get the whole truth about the trickster.”

 

_ I told you he’d know something was off! _

 

Gabriel felt a grudging respect, a common feeling when dealing with this particular demon.  **_Oh, he’s good_ ** . But that was alright. It didn’t matter now.  **_We would have had to tell him anyway,_ ** he told Sam.  **_it’s not like we could make it through the apocalypse without him getting suspicious that something’s up._ ** Sam just scowled out at Crowley, wrapping his soul possessively around Gabriel’s grace. Gabriel suppressed a grin as he turned back to the demon.

 

“Well, maybe I didn’t tell you the whole truth.” He let his Grace spill out into the room. Holy light threw great wing shadows up the walls, reflected in Crowley’s wide eyes like the flicker of flames.

 

The demon’s eyes bulged, his mouth falling open in shock. Gabriel couldn't deny that the fear in the demon’s eyes was more than a little satisfying. He could smite him without more than raising his pinky, and not Crowley knew it. Gabriel folded himself back into Sam’s body, tucking his wings back inside and slouching, smirking a challenge at Crowley. With effort, Crowley managed to hide his shock under his usual mask of detached disinterest.

 

“Well, colour me surprised and impressed. An archangel wrapped in an enigma wrapped in layers of plaid. I have to admit, I didn't see that one coming.” He spent a few more seconds staring, seemingly unable to absorb this new piece of information, then cocked his head at Gabriel. “So, purely out of academic interest, is the moose dead in there?”

 

“Oh, Sammy’s still kicking. I don't make a habit of burning out souls. You get a better vessel shelf-life that way.”

 

Crowley raised his glass and took a fortifying swig of whiskey. “More’s the pity. Anyway, if you're not here to turn me into a well-dressed pile of cinders, what do you want me for? I take it you didn’t call for a casual chat.”

 

Gabriel draped Sam's long body casually against the door frame. “Well, you know that little apocalypse that's going on at the moment?”

 

Crowley’s eyes were instantly sharp, but his body language stayed relaxed. “You mean the apocalypse I’ve been helping you with? Unless those morons have managed to start another one while I was underground.”

 

“Yes, that apocalypse. And before you say it, no more interfering on the sidelines, we want you front and centre. You're on our side. Welcome to the team as a full card-carrying member. Time to step up.”

 

Crowley swilled the whisky around the glass, a nervous habit. “And I'm guessing that wasn't a friendly invitation? I couldn't, say, opt out of your little suicide mission?”

 

Gabriel smiled nastily. “Not even a little bit.”

 

Crowley gave a mocking little bow. “Then I graciously accept.”

 

Gabriel let his tone darken, a little glow coming through his eyes. “Think about double crossing us, and there won’t even be a smear left. There won’t even be atoms. Got it?” The lights above them flickered warningly. 

 

Crowley looked up at the bulb, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Receiving you loud and clear.”

 

Gabriel straightened up, extinguishing the devil’s trap with a thought as he clapped his hands. “Good! Well, better come in and meet the team then!” He led the demon through to the kitchen. “You know Deano, of course, who could forget him. Rumour on the grapevine says you and Bobby are having a torrid affair-” Bobby looked up from his lore book to give them a disgusted grimace. Dean snorted with laughter so hard that coffee came out his nose and Gabriel raised his voice so he could be heard over the coughing fit. “-so I guess you two don’t need introducing. The wolf’s Fenrir, don’t feed him any of your food unless you want to be on the receiving end of puppy eyes all evening. And I believe you’ve already met Rowena!”

 

Rowena’s eyes went as round as emerald saucers. She sprung up from the table, reaching forwards to grab his face. Crowley tried to backpedal, but she caught him, pulling him against her bosom as his arms flailed in a pointless attempt to get away. “Ah, Fergus! It's been years since a saw yer face. You were just a wee bairn the last time I saw yeh!”

 

Crowley’s face contorted into an expression of disbelieving horror over her shoulder, still trying to prise her off. “Mother! What dark depths did they manage to dredge you up from?”

 

Sam was greatly amused.  _ I take it all back, it’s totally worth having Crowley on the team just to see him making that face. She’s really Crowley’s mother!? _

 

Gabriel smirked.  **_Oh, yes. Yes she is._ **

 

“Och, you’re looking too thin! Are you taking care of yourself down there? I hate hell, far too damp, and all that noise…”

 

Sam chuckled as Crowley slapped at her fussing hands like a petulant five-year-old.  _ You know, this might just work out after all. I doubt he’ll try anything while he’s being… supervised. _

 

Gabriel felt his heart fall.  **_You didn’t think my idea would work?_ **

 

Sam paused.  _ Maybe not, but I trusted you. You were sure, I could feel it, so I trusted that. _

 

Gabriel didn’t say anything, but he could feel his grace glowing. It had been so long since someone actually trusted him, relied on him without doubting him. Made him feel valuable, capable. He only hoped he could live up to that expectation.

 

_ You will, _ whispered Sam, and Gabriel realised he must have been projecting.  _ You’ve done so much already. For me. For us. You can do more than you think, Gabe. I trust you. _

 

**_Sam…_ ** His grace reached out for Sam without his permission, wrapping his soul in waves of awe and gratefulness.

 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Dean’s loud voice broke through their thoughts. “No freaky psychic make-outs in the kitchen!”

 

“Wait,” Crowley looked between them, “Really? Loki and the Moose?”

 

_ “Indeed. Father has a crush,” _ said Fenrir slyly from under the table, his golden eyes narrowed as he looked up at them with a wolfy smirk. 

 

Gabriel flushed. “Gee, kid, why have you gotta give these things away? We’re trying to keep it on the down-low here!”

 

Dean snorted. “Low-down. Right.”

 

“You gonna get going, or are you gonna be flapping your gums all day?” Bobby interrupted them all, getting up from the table and moving to wash his mug. “I got more books to check outta the library if you old ladies are finished gossipin’.”

 

Gabriel grinned.  **_Whadda you say, Samosa? Ready to do some more recruitment?_ **

 

_ Let’s go! _

 

With a crack of wings, they were gone.

 

.o0o.

 

_ A Caravan, Utah _

 

“...And then the bastard threw me across the room, right through a wardrobe.” Walt grimaced and took another slug of whisky straight from the bottle. It burned all the way down. “Managed to escape before he could deal the final blow, ran outta that room, I swear I heard them both coming after me, the unnatural freaks.” Roy hummed noncommittally, eyes fixed on the long gash on Walt’s shoulder as he pulled the next stitch tight.

 

Roy’s caravan was cramped, piled high with boxes and supplies, barely enough room for the bed and the little table. The bare bulb overhead was just bright enough to read by. Walt read the labels on the boxes to distract himself from the pain of the needle tugging through his flesh. Salt. Bullets. Pressure bandages, assorted sizes. Pot noodles.

 

Roy finished the stitches on his arm, tying off the thread with quick, precise movements. Walt hissed as he wiped peroxide over the wound, leaning back with a relieved sigh when he was done. 

 

“Sounds to me like you were lucky to get away from that mess with just a few scratches.” Roy finally replied, turning to put away the needles. “Those Winchesters sound like too much trouble for the likes of us. Don’t say I didn’t tell ya.”

 

Walt just grunted, shrugging on his shirt. “Just have to find the right weapon, is all. Every monster’s got a weakness. We’ll get the bastards yet, you'll see.”

 

“Hmm… Are you sure…” Roy’s voice lost momentum for a second, hand pausing on the first aid kit before picking up again, low and careful, like Walt was a wild animal he was trying not to upset. “Do you really think this is what we’re meant to do? Do you ever wonder… if we’re reading this wrong?”

 

Walt turned to stare at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” He snapped.

 

Roy looked up at him properly for the first time since Walt had started telling him what happened, pulling out the chair opposite him to sit. He slumped, his shoulders stooping and his elbows dropping to the table. His eyes weren’t angry like the rage Walt could feel boiling within himself. They were just… tired. 

 

“It’s just… you saw him, Walt. You saw his eyes glowing like something outta a horror film. I’m just saying, maybe this is all too big for us. He comes back from the dead. He’s immune to the demon-killin’ gun. He threw you around like a sack of flour, and it doesn’t even sound like he was tryin’.”

 

Walt couldn't believe it. Was he… was Roy saying what he thought he was saying? “This is our destiny, Roy! You don't get to just back out of it!”

 

Roy’s voice rose to match. “Maybe I value my life and your life over ganking every single monster! There are some things you can fight, and then there’s shit like this!”

 

They stared at each other across the claustrophobic space, breathing heavily. 

 

Roy broke first and looked down, his jaw working. The passion drained out of him as soon as it had come. “We’re in over our heads. We don't know what they are or who they're working with. It's suicide going after them now. But I know you won't listen to me. You’re my best friend, Walt, but... fuck. You walk off a cliff, I’m not walking off with ya.”

 

Walt glared at the top of Roy’s hair. “So you’re a coward. That's why you won't come with me. That’s why you won’t face them like a goddamn man.”

 

Roy just shook his head, wouldn't look up and meet his eye, his gaze fixed on his fingers shredding his beer label. Walt cursed explosively, slamming his fist on the table. Roy’s shoulders flinched. 

 

“That's it then? You're just going to give up?”

 

No reply. 

  
Walt swore again, under his breath, and snatched up the stupid gun before storming out of the trailer. He slammed the door behind himself. A few steps and he wrenched open the car door, throwing himself behind the wheel. He sat there for a few seconds, jaw working, before he slammed his fists against that too and started it up with a curse. He pulled away, ignoring the trailer vanishing into the gloom behind him. _ If you want something done right, _ he thought bitterly,  _ you gotta do it yourself. _

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we want? MOAR ALLIES!!

 

Castiel returned at the start of the second week of their search. 

 

Gabriel felt him coming before he materialised, his grace arrowing towards the wards before the sound of wings reverberated around the kitchen. He turned towards him just in time to see Cas appear in a swirl of trenchcoat and dark feathers.

 

Gabriel knew immediately that the mission hadn’t gone well. Cas’ shoulders were slumped, his wings drooping down from his shoulders and dragging along the ground behind him. He didn’t look at Gabriel as he walked past him. Gabriel asked anyway. “How did it go?”

 

Cas leaned against the back of the nearest chair, bracing himself on his arms, gaze fixed on the floor. “I… I thought that once I told them of the memories that they are missing, they would come to their senses.” Cas’ shoulders hunched. “But they are buried too far under their own convictions to see the truth. I have failed.” Then, more quietly, “They cast me out again. They said I was an abomination. That I wasn’t truly an angel anymore. They tried to shackle me and take me to Michael, but I got away.” His voice was small and full of hurt.

 

How  _ dare  _ they hurt his little brother? Gabriel felt his wings hackle menacingly behind him, yearning to fly straight to heaven and teach those upstarts an anti-bullying lesson they wouldn’t forget for the next millennia. But it was Naomi and Zachariah to blame, really. And Cas didn’t need his anger, not right now. 

 

_ Oh Cas _ , Sam murmured to himself. His soul nudged forwards, urging Gabriel towards his brother, and Gabriel didn’t resist. He wrapped Cas up in Sam’s strong arms, squeezing the surprised seraph tightly.  **_I told him,_ ** Gabriel thought sadly. He’d always been such a hopeful fledgling, and he hated to see that faith crushed. “Cassy, I’m sorry.” He released him, but kept hold of his shoulders. “Looks like Michael and Luci aren’t the only bags of dicks in the family. Don’t listen to them, yeah?”

 

Cas’ expression softened, and for the first time since he had come back, a small smile crossed his lips. “Well, I didn’t fail completely. I managed to convince one seraph to join us.”

 

Gabriel perked up. “Yeah? Who is it?”

 

Then his gaze snapped up as another angel approached. It was nothing like Castiel. Its form was wiry where Castiel was solid, its wings ashy pale where his were dark, its energy cool where Castiel’s was warm. The only thing the same was the thick lattice of scars criss-crossing its grace, shimmering opalescent in Gabriel’s grace-sight as it alighted in the kitchen.

 

A vessel emerged from the shadows, tall and wiry to match the angel’s true form, all long limbs and angular face. His clothes were rumpled, as though he had dressed in a hurry, his deep v-necked shirt tucked accidentally into his tight pants. His grey eyes darted around, taking in everything before meeting theirs and settling, gaze going wide and wondering before hardening into steel. For half a second, Gabriel almost didn’t recognise him. He had grown so much since he had left heaven, and the scars were new. But then he looked closer, and lit up with recognition. Sam watched the unknown angel approach warily, taking in the battle-hardened grace. _ Who is that? _

 

“Balthazar!” Gabriel greeted out loud, a genuine smile curving his lips. His wings flicked involuntarily behind him in a greeting. To his disappointment, Balthazar’s stayed folded tight along his back.

 

“I found him in France.” Cas let him know. 

 

Balthazar looked away from Gabriel for the first time since his arrival to shoot Cas an exasperated glance. “You interrupted my hot tub menage-a-trois, which was going wonderfully by the way, to tell me that the apocalypse has to be stopped, and you and your little band of lunatics are the only solution. As you can imagine, I was less than impressed.” His polished accent was calmly sardonic, a juxtapoint to his hands twitching at his sides. “I’ve been keeping up with the heavenly gossip, of course. You’ve been causing quite a stir up there Cassie, you rogue.” There was something almost envious in his tone. “But I must say there were some things I wasn’t expecting about your little story. I wasn’t aware that you’d been…” His eyes roved up to Gabriel’s true form and his mouth curled into a scathing sneer, “Digging up ancient relics.”

 

Gabriel smiled, all teeth, and Sam felt his eyes grow hot as Gabriel let his grace shine through them, blue-white and sharp as an angel blade as his hurt at the rejection grew into annoyance. “I was built to lead the armies of heaven, bucko. I might’ve spent the last thirty thousand years on this little blue mud sphere, which means I have allies in all sorts of interesting places. What’ve you been doing with your time?” Gabriel let his head cock to one side sarcastically, “Drinking expensive whisky?”

 

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. “Bold words for someone who’s rumoured to have slept with a stallion and given birth to an eight-legged horse.”

 

Gabriel let his wings spread a little. “Careful little brother,” he growled.

 

Balthazar wasn’t intimidated. His barred grey wings spread a little behind him in a challenge. “Or what? You’ll smite me?”

 

Somehow, that familiar snide defiance eased something between them. Gabriel relaxed, his grace calming, folding his wings away with a chuckle. “I’d forgotten how mouthy you were.”

 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t left.” Balthazar threw back, still prickly. 

 

“I had my reasons.” Gabriel extended his fingers, wiggling them in Balthazar’s direction. “I take it Cassie’s already told you about the memories. Want to find out what you’re missing out on?”

 

A curious light lit in Balthazar’s grey eyes. “Why on earth would I want more memories of you boring lot?” But he stepped forward anyway in wary invitation. Gabriel pressed a finger against the seraph’s forehead and closed his eyes.

 

Balthazar’s grace was cynical, jaded, not as open to contact as Castiel’s had been, but he grudgingly let them in. He raised a mental eyebrow as Sam crossed his inner mental barriers. **_That’s an interesting vessel arrangement you’ve got, who’s this?_ **

 

**_Oh yeah, introductions! This is Sam, he’s my legs-for-hire. Sam, this is my least stuck-up sibling._ **

 

Sam rolled his mental eyes. He was aware of the seraph’s many-eyed gaze appraising him in a different way than they had Gabriel.  **_Well, hello there!_ **

 

_ Uh, hi. _

 

Gabriel scowled, his grace gathering Sam’s soul closer, rippling in warning.  **_And he’s taken!_ **

 

**_Alright, possessive much? Touchy, touchy._ **

 

Sam probably shouldn’t have found Gabriel’s possessiveness as hot as it was. Gabriel’s grace rumbled back at him, coiling warm around him. 

 

Balthazar rudely interrupted them.  **_Do you mind? As hot as it might be, if I wanted to watch you two snogging like teenagers, I would have asked. I thought you had a job to do?_ **

 

Reluctantly, they got back to business, Gabriel shooting the seraph a dirty look. Balthazar watched them closely as they leafed through his memories. Sam tried to move past as fast as he could, but he couldn’t help gathering impressions. Balthazar was quick, calculating. He had seen what heaven had become long before the apocalypse, but he had been biding his time among their ranks. And when Castiel had finally come to him, he had known that the time had come to play his hand.

 

Back they went, back and back, deep into the seraph’s mind, searching for the imperfections that marked the damaged memories. And there it was. With a quick snap, the false memories broke, the real ones flooding back. Gabriel opened his eyes in time to see Cas lunge forwards and catch Balthazar’s suddenly limp vessel, dragging him unceremoniously to the couch and dumping him onto the cushions.

 

_ That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,  _ Sam commented, buoying up his grace with energy from his soul. Gabriel sent him a coil of warm thanks.

 

**_There weren’t as many memories missing as with Cas. Balthazar’s a wily bastard._ **

 

“How was he?” Cas asked, drawing his attention.

 

Gabriel caught his breath. “Not as bad as you. He was better at pretending that he was still following heaven’s orders, he wasn’t caught and reconditioned as often.”

 

Cas’ nod was stiff and businesslike, but his eyes stayed fixed on Balthazar’s still form, his jaw tense. Behind his back, his wings were tucked in tight to his vessel’s spine in upset. Gabriel remembered them both suddenly as fluffy-winged fledglings, wobbling and giggling as they soared on updraughts, Gabriel gliding lazily below them, ready to catch. But he wasn’t needed that day. Not until they both swooped down on him, and tickled him so thoroughly that he nearly risked Joshua’s ire by crash landing in the garden because he was laughing so hard. 

 

Gabriel blinked away the memories and put a comforting hand on Cas’ shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Cassie. He just has to adjust to all the memories of my awesomeness. No wonder it was too much.”

 

Cas just looked at him, unamused. “Brother, have you had trouble taking off recently?”

 

Gabriel quickly glanced behind himself, concerned, but his flight feathers looked normal. “No, why? Is there something wrong with my wings?” He looked back at Cas, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

 

Cas leaned in closer. “It must be getting hard to lift off the ground with a head as large as yours.” He turned back to Balthazar.

 

Gabriel stood, mouth gaping, staring at Cas in disbelief. Sam’s laughter overpowered his shock, coming out in spluttering guffaws until Gabriel’s joined it, both of them howling in amusement until tears were rolling down their cheeks. Gabriel grabbed the back of the nearest chair and leaned over it in a vain attempt to prevent the stitch in his side, gasping.

 

“Oh, baby bro, Dean has been a bad influence on you!”

 

Even though he turned away in an attempt to hide it, one side of Cas’ mouth twitched into a helpless smile. “You say that as though I didn’t get that line from you.”

 

“He’s right,” came a groggy voice from the couch, “you used to use that one on Michael all the time. And then he’d chase you around heaven until you got tired enough for him to catch you. Then he’d sit on you, if I remember correctly.”

 

“It was very amusing,” Cas supplied. “Balthazar. How are you feeling?”

 

Balthazar grimaced up at them. “As though someone put my head in a washing machine and put it on a spin cycle, thanks for asking.” Despite that, he started struggling to sit up, taking Cas’ offered hand to pull himself to his feet. He wobbled for a second, blinking, then waved them off and made a beeline for the half-empty bottle of scotch sitting on Bobby’s desk. He poured himself a shot, his fingers still shaking against the glass as he tossed it back. He turned back to them.

 

“Just one question.” He looked Gabriel in the eye, and for a second, the cold steel was back in his gaze. “Where is Naomi?”

 

Gabriel smiled grimly over the stabbing sensation in his chest. “Already taken care of.”

 

Balthazar stared him down for a second before nodding. “Good,” he said simply. “Now, as we were discussing. The apocalypse?”

 

.o0o.

 

It had been two days since Cas had brought back Balthazar, and Sam and Gabriel were hitting a dead end. The lore had run out- Bobby had checked out books from all over the state, and their allies had plundered libraries around the world, but more and more, the people they were seeking out were impossible to find. Or, in a few horrible cases, their bodies were all too easy to find. Sam still felt Gabriel’s grace recoil and his stomach turn whenever they thought about what Lucifer had done to Anansi and Hestia. 

 

On top of that, worrying rumours had started to circulate about heaven. They had known from Balthazar that Michael was consolidating his forces, gathering his weapons for the battle against hell and the occupation of earth. But Michael’s plans seemed to have been accelerated. Sunspots were being reported by astronomers, strange fluctuations in gravity and unexplained flares. All three angels watched grimly as the pleated skirts of the aurora coated the sky over Bobby’s house, stretching further south then they ever had before. 

 

Things were moving faster than expected. They had to stop them both before they went any further.

 

Which led to them all sitting in the living room, trying to pool their resources. To Sam’s surprise, Fen had flopped down on Dean’s feet in his smaller form, chin on his paws. Rowena was sitting on one of Bobby’s wooden chairs with her legs crossed, busy knitting what looked disturbingly like a noose. The only one missing was Crowley, who was sulking somewhere in the upstairs rooms, trying to avoid his mother. 

 

Gabriel tapped Sam's long fingers against the desk. “Who else is out there? Come on, people, think!”

 

There was a drawn-out silence. Dean started scratching Fenrir behind the ears. The wolf’s eyes drooped to half mast.

 

“What about the antichrist?” He finally suggested.

 

Cas’ eyes lit up. Gabriel sat bolt upright. “The what!?” Even Balthazar raised an eyebrow in surprise. 

 

**_You boys just keep pulling out surprises, don’t you?_ ** He turned to Sam.  **_Why didn’t you tell me we had a cambion on side?_ **

 

_ Because we don’t.  _ Sam pushed his memories of the event towards Gabriel, who flicked through them.  _ He was just a kid and he wanted out. I wasn’t going to argue with that. _ He had too much empathy for the boy who was trying to leave the supernatural behind him. And he knew that Gabriel would never force a powered-up child to fight a war that wasn’t his. His situation was a little too familiar for both of them.

 

**_Hmm. Yeah. I see what you mean._ **

 

Dean still looked pensive, unaware of their private conversation. “We met a Cambion. We could try recruiting him. He managed to turn Cas into a little figurine, god knows he should be able to pull out the big guns.” 

 

Gabriel gave him a flat stare. “I don't care. He's a kid, and from what Sam’s just shown me he's already made it quite clear that he wants to stay out of this. We leave the cambion alone.”

 

Dean looked a little affronted. “You don’t have any problems with forcing Crowley onto our side. Why’s the cambion any different?”

 

“Because Crowley is a grown-ass demon and the king of the damn crossroads to boot. He’s involved by his position alone, which he took by  _ choice _ . The cambion is a tiny little child who just lost his family and was forced to make his own witness protection, since apparently not a single person on this entire Dad-damned planet isn’t hunting him down for his powers. So. We leave him alone. Got it?” 

 

Dean grimaced and nodded reluctantly. The room lapsed back into silence as everyone thought. 

 

“How about that prophet?”

 

“Yeah, the one that wrote those books about you.” Bobby’s eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Calvin Edlund, or something.”

 

Balthazar leant forwards, an evil smile spreading over his face. “Books? Which books are these?” Rowena looked interested as well.

 

“Nothing!” Dean scowled at Bobby with betrayal in his eyes. “No books!”

 

_ That’s a thought, Chuck! He’d be good to have on our side. _

 

**_Hmmm._ ** Gabriel sounded dubious. “If he is a prophet,” he addressed the whole room, “he’ll have another archangel watching over him. Call me antisocial, but I’d rather not have a spat with Raph as well before the big event. We could go get him, but we’d better leave it until the last minute. I don’t want another brother trying to hunt me down.”

 

They all settled back into contemplative silence. Sam combed his memories for something, anything. Surely there had to be something out there. Something he’d heard of, seen in an obscure lore book, in his dad’s journal, even.

 

And, finally, it came to him.  _ I’ve got an idea! _

 

Gabriel turned his attention inwards, curious. **_What are you thinking?_**

 

_ What about Gaia? _

 

A brief stab of loss ran through Gabriel’s grace.  **_Gaia’s long gone, Sammy. I said people Lucifer_ ** **thinks** **_are dead, not people who actually_ ** **are** **_dead._ **

 

_ You said she wasn’t dead though, I thought- _

 

**_Yeah yeah, I know. I know. It’s just..._ **

 

Sam felt the indecision warring in Gabriel’s grace. The desire to reunite with his friend and the knowledge that she would be a powerful ally versus not wanting to entertain hope in case he was wrong. In case Gaia really  _ was  _ dead.

 

_ We could try,  _ he persuaded gently.  _ We have nothing to lose _ . _ If she’s alive, you’ll have her back, and we need all the help we can get. If not, at least you’ll know.  _

 

Gabriel’s hope won. With one final grumble, he shook out his wings, getting ready for flight. Sam tactfully didn’t say anything as Gabriel turned to the rest of their gathering as they stood. “Sammy’s got a lead, we won’t be long.”

 

They didn’t wait. With one beat, they were off. Land, then water rushed by beneath them, the ocean floor falling away then rising again, breaking the surface and moulding itself into a sun-drenched expanse of plateau patched with scrubby woodlands and cut through with the silver thread of rivers carving themselves deep into the red rock. Memories flashed past of shallower gorges and a colder climate superimposed over the landscape, a dry steppe instead of Mediterranean sun.  Familiar-unfamiliar landmarks loomed, guiding Gabriel back to the place where he’d first taken Sam. 

 

The last time they’d been here, it had practically been a crash landing. Sam had barely had time to take in the scenery, never mind recognise the entry point to the cave, yet there was still something familiar about one particular outcrop. Gabriel circled the location a few times, soaring over the gorges on outstretched wings before descending. The river glittered at the bottom of the cliffs, the water cool blue and inviting-looking, but for once Gabriel’s mood wasn’t distractible. He turned on one wing and plunged them straight through the solid rock of the canyon wall. Sam let out a mental yelp, but they passed through smoothly, as though the sandstone was as ephemeral as smoke. The rock closed over them and they were back in the tomb-like silence of the caves.

 

With a few flaps, Gabriel set them down in the large open space in the centre, stirring up a great cloud of dust. They held their breath, waiting for it to settle. It seemed almost sacrilegious to break the silence. 

 

Gabriel took a deep breath, raised one hand, and snapped.

 

A circle of candles appeared around them, illuminating the space in warm light. They took a second to just stand there, absorbing their surroundings. Then with one hand, Gabriel stooped and picked up a wooden bowl and a jug from the floor, pouring holy oil in with powdered red earth and mixing it with his fingers. Sam felt him gather his grace tight in his chest, letting it pool in his hands and vocal cords. Then, he started to speak.

 

The words that Gabriel was chanting weren't in Enochian. The syllables were guttural and blunt, and accompanied with broad hand gestures. With the candlelight flickering on the walls, Gabriel stepped up to the closest cave wall, dipped a finger in the ochre and drew the rough figure of a pair of bisons’ horns, strong and curved. Magic started to resonate around them, rebounding off the walls. It slowly sank into the rock. When Gabriel was finished they lapsed into quiet, waiting. Sam didn’t dare even think. 

 

Silence. Nothing stirred.

 

Gabriel was anxious, the hope draining out of him by the second. After a few minutes, Sam spoke up.  _ Maybe it needs a human to complete the ritual?  _

 

Gabriel considered it, then sighed in defeat.  **_Go on then. You try it. Not like we have anything to lose._ **

 

He slipped back and Sam blinked as he took over. The cave felt so much more real now that he was in control, rather than just riding shotgun. The air tasted of dust on his tongue, and despite Gabriel’s warm presence in the back of his head, the sense of isolation was overwhelming.

 

Taking a deep breath and drawing from Gabriel's memories, Sam began the chant again. He paid more attention to the words this time. To the meanings behind them. It was a plea for growth in the coming season, for fertility and prosperity. It was a song of rebirth. Suddenly, in a flash of memory, Sam saw that it wasn't just a chant, it was a song. The melody was simple enough for him to hold, even with his bad singing.

 

With clumsy fingers, he traced the outline of the figure that Gabriel had drawn with his red-stained fingertips. The last words were swallowed back into the silence.

 

A tiny breath of wind stirred the cave.

 

Sam and Gabriel looked around together. The wisp of air roved around the cave, stirring the dust up into miniature whirlwinds in its wake. The candles guttered one by one, and the shadows flickered, the figures on the walls seemed to stir. The hair on the back of Sam’s arms rose. There was a pressure on the air, the cave atmosphere getting heavier until every breath felt like it was being drawn through cloth. He turned, his eyes automatically trying to track the restless shadows. A thousand ancient eyes watched from the walls, following him. 

 

Gabriel’s excitement was electric.  **_She’s here!_ **

 

And then, out of the long shadows in the corner of his eye, a figure emerged. Sam felt his breath catch. She seemed to have walked straight out of the walls, a painting come to life. She was barely visible at first, nothing but a smudge of smoke and shadow and charcoal paint, but with every step she gained substance until she seemed more solid than the rocks themselves. There was an aura around her that made it feel as though she was denser than the average being, more solid, drawing them both into her orbit. It was magnetic, almost mesmerising. Sam felt himself flush as he realised she was naked, and fixed his eyes determinedly on her face. Gabriel chuckled at him.

 

The goddess shook her head, heavy horns swinging through the thick, coarse hair. When she spoke, it was in the same rough, guttural tongue that had been spoken in Gabriel’s memories. 

 

“Who wakes me? What do you want?”

 

Gabriel mentally tapped his shoulder, and Sam let him take over. Gabriel held a hand out towards her. “Don't you recognise me? It really has been a long time to cloud even your memory, Gaia.”

 

She squinted closer, then broke into a broad smile, showing sharp teeth that didn't belong in a bison’s mouth. She strode forwards quickly, bare feet leaving broad prints in the dust, and for half a second Sam felt a flash of nervousness, but she held out her arms, gathering them to her bosom. She was as tall as he was. Gabriel laughed, delighted, embracing her back, burying their face in the musky, animal smell of her hair. Sam felt memories stirring in his grace and caught the loose impressions. A thousand other warm embraces, laughter and companionship, a friendship formed over millennia. 

 

She released him to inspect him more closely with warm, liquid eyes. “Gabriel, my old friend! You have been gone too long! I have missed your visits.”

 

“Ah, I’ve missed you too. It hasn’t been the same without you.” Gabriel smiled back at her, genuine affection warm in his grace making him almost giddy, lit up from inside and swirling through Sam’s body in excitement. Sam marvelled at it, basked in it. This was what Gabriel was meant to be, he thought to himself. A being of joy, of light.

 

She turned, inspecting the cave, taking in the candles and bowl. “I can sense… the world outside. The earth is older.” Her brows drew down, nostrils flaring. “And the humans… so many people. This is a new age. It is not my time.” She shook her head again. “I have slept too long.”

 

Sam felt a pang run through Gabriel’s grace. A moment of mourning for all the friends he had lost, humans and gods alike swallowed up by time’s endless march. But not Gabriel. Gabriel endured. 

 

And Sam could offer no comfort, because he knew that he would be the same; whether it was the apocalypse or hunting or old age, he would be gone in an eyeblink to an archangel. Gabriel reached out, pulling him wordlessly closer.

 

Gaia focused back on them. “But we shouldn’t worry about that now. I know you wouldn’t have raised me from my sleep if your need wasn’t great. Why have you woken me in this late age?”

 

Gabriel sighed, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. “My brothers are fighting again. They will destroy the world if we do not stop it. I’m gathering my friends and allies to help. We would be honoured if you would join us.”

 

“Your brothers?” Gaia shook her head sadly. “I would help you, my friend, but I am weak these days. The great bear will not wake from hibernation. Our people are long dead and our power has waned with them. What use would either of us be against the Burning Ones?”

 

“I think that surprise will matter more than strength. All we need is to restrain them for as long as possible, that's it. And your power has not touched the earth for millennia- it will take them a good long time to break your bindings.”

 

She observed them with dark, liquid eyes. Despite how Gabriel was the one in charge right now, Sam got the feeling that she saw him as well. She was addressing both of them. “In that case, I will help. I have often wanted to give your brothers a piece of my mind. Besides,” she smiled at them again, “It will be good to fight beside you once more, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel clapped his hands together, not trying to hide his delighted smile. “Alright! Let’s go, we’ve got a home base across the ocean. Can you keep up?”

 

Gaia snorted, falling in easily alongside him, two long strides for every three of his. “That won't be a problem.”

 

They flew across the ocean, landing a few seconds after they had taken off in the middle of Bobby’s yard. Gabriel turned to watch her.

 

Gaia stood, her eyes roving slowly over the piles of cars, the scrubby woodland beyond. Her eyes seemed to catch on the house, widening as she took in the peeling paint, the weathered wood of the porch steps. She had never even seen a house before, Sam realised. Hesitantly, she stepped up, running fingers over the bricks. “Ingenious,” she murmured to herself.

 

Gabriel smiled at her. “You can come inside, if you want.”

 

She turned to look at them, nodding. Gabriel pushed open the front door, beckoning her eagerly along the corridor and into the kitchen, leaving Gaia to peer around curiously after him. She huffed as she ducked through the low doorway, the tips of her horns grazing the wood. 

 

“Good news, gang! Look alive, we've got company!”

 

Bobby turned where he was stood in front of the stove and Sam saw him subtly freeze, his eyes widening, fingers twitching towards his gun. Cas looked similarly surprised, tapping Dean’s arm to get his attention. Dean looked up from his coffee and nearly choked on it, his face turning beet red as he tried to look anywhere except Gaia’s naked form. Gabriel watched on with amusement, and even Sam had to chuckle.

 

“What Deano, never seen a naked lady before? Don't be such a prude.”

 

Dean spluttered, “A woman with a bison’s head walks through the door and I'm not allowed to be surprised?”

 

“Grow up, boy.” Bobby growled, even though the back of his neck was also red as he turned towards the goddess. “Who are you, then?”

 

“My name is Gaia.” Gaia’s accent bent strangely around the English syllables, but the words were intelligible.

 

Bobby scratched his beard. “Rings a bell. Mother Earth? That sort of thing?”

 

Sam wasn’t sure how Gaia made her bison’s mouth smile, but she managed it somehow. “Of a sort. I see my favourite trickster has been spreading rumours about me again.” Her dark eyes glimmered with humour. 

 

Gabriel smirked back. “Guilty. Never mind all that Gaia, you missed a lot while you were gone.” He took advantage of Dean’s inattention to snatch his coffee, pressing the mug into Gaia’s hands. She sniffed it curiously. “Where are the rest of the crew?” Gabriel asked the humans.

 

“Out. Rowena needed about fifty different herbs, last I heard, so they’re all out searching for them. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours.” Bobby beckoned them towards him, turning slightly away. Gabriel ambled over. “So what are you thinkin’? I’m guessing she’s not just a fertility goddess.” Bobby asked, eyes fixed on Gaia as she licked experimentally around the rim of the mug. “What can she do?”

 

“Gaia? All sorts. Elemental control, manipulating living things, the whole kit and kaboodle.” Gabriel smiled, and Sam could feel him near bursting with pride. “And best of all, she’s the last person my brothers will expect to show up to the party.”

 

Bobby nodded approvingly, slowly relaxing in the presence of the new addition to their team. Sam didn’t blame him for being tense. For the last two weeks he’d had his home invaded with all manner of creatures that he’d normally be trying to kill. As logical as Bobby usually was, it would be quite an adjustment for any hunter.

 

Gaia sipped at the coffee and snorted loudly, shaking her head. Glaring at it in disgust, she put the mug down on the table, running her thick tongue over her teeth like she was trying to wipe the taste out of her mouth. Dean finally noticed his missing coffee and scowled. “Hey!” 

 

Gaia ignored him as he snatched it back and turned towards Gabriel, narrowing her eyes at him. “There is something else I want to ask. Why do you no longer inhabit the vessel I made for you, Gabriel?”

 

“Oh. That.” Gabriel cleared Sam’s throat sheepishly. “I had a run in with one of my brothers, completely totalled it. So Sammy here is letting me bunk until this is over and I can manage to find a new one.” 

 

Her eyes lit up with interest. “And yet he is not of your vessel line, I can sense that much. I would like to meet this human who is strong enough to hold an archangel he was not designed for.”

 

Gabriel gave Sam an encouraging nudge.  **_Well, go on then! Say hi!_ **

 

Sam felt oddly nervous as he moved forwards. It was like meeting Cas all over again. He had known Gaia through Gabriel’s memories and dreams, a thousand shared moments and impressions, but she didn’t know him at all. What if she didn’t like him?

 

“Um… hi? I’m Sam,” he stuttered out.

 

She inspected him, air huffing through her nostrils. “You’re the soul who summoned me. You must be truly strong to hold him. It is good to meet you, Sam. Thank you for taking care of my friend.”

 

Sam felt his face heating as he smiled at her. “It was the least I could do after everything Gabriel’s done for us.”

 

“So, Gaia,” Dean seemed to have finally recovered his charm, smiling up at her with his discomfort covered by a suave smirk. “You’re a fertility goddess?”

 

Gaia rolled her dark eyes, sounding unimpressed. “I see human flirting has not become any more advanced since the neolithic.” 

 

Sam ignored Dean’s spluttering and turned inside to Gabriel.  _ She’s the last one, isn’t she? The last one we have time to search out? _

 

**_I think she is. Well. Apart from the prophet and one more, but I think I know where to find her._ **

 

_ Do you think it’s time to try and find Kali?  _ Sam had felt Gabriel’s hesitance to to contact his old lover. And, if he was honest to himself, he did feel a twinge of protective possessiveness with regards to the goddess. And not just because she was an old flame: the memory of her plunging an archangel sword into Gabriel’s chest, fake blade or not, was still seared into his mind. 

 

But they were well past being picky about their allies.

 

Gabriel sighed, spreading his wings.  **_I suppose it is._ **

 

.o0o.

 

Sam blinked and looked around in surprise. 

 

One second he and Gabriel had been combing the Himalayas, flying high above the earth, and the next Sam was standing in a cafe. 

 

There was nothing sinister about it. It was a cosy sort of place where the earthy decor wrapped around you as warm and inviting as the smell of brewing coffee. Golden light filtered in through the windows, falling on the glittering display case of cakes and baked goods that took up one wall. Looking around, he saw several cushion-filled nooks and comfy sofas, a few of them occupied but the most inviting ones left open. The occasional person bustled past him, but nobody was paying him any attention past a friendly smile. 

 

It reminded Sam of several dozen little places like this that he had frequented during his time at Stanford. He’d liked the atmosphere- it wasn’t as impersonal as a starbucks, but if you wanted to sit in the corner with a drink and just people watch for a while, to revel in normality, they were perfect.

 

“Dad damn it, I can’t believe we fell asleep on the wing again.” Gabriel’s voice echoed grumpily from behind him.

 

Sam turned, and there he was, dressed in a comfy-looking maroon sweater, glasses perched on his nose like some sort of nerdy professor. Sam couldn’t help the heat that sparked in his stomach at the sight of them, pressing it down with a flush of embarrassment. He reached out for Gabriel’s hand, winding their fingers together. “Well, we’re here now.”

  
  
Gabriel sighed, looking around. “Yeah, might as well make the most of it. Where even are we?”

 

“I’m not sure, but it looks like a coffee shop.”

 

“Looks like. This dream must be one of yours. Way too boring for mine.” Gabriel looked around again, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. Then he looked back at Sam, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “Sam, is this what I think it it?”

  
  
Sam felt a blush start to spread on his cheeks. “Shut up.”

 

“You’re taking me on a date. In your head.”

 

Sam groaned, tilting his head back so he didn’t have to look at Gabriel’s smirk. “Shut  _ uuup _ .”

 

“You, Sam Winchester, are a big ol’ romantic. Don’t deny it. Hey,” Sam looked down again, and Gabriel’s expression was less teasing than he’d thought it would be. Softer. He felt Gabriel give his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate it, okay?” Gabriel looked around again, his irises sparkling golden where they caught the light right. “You know, down the millennia, I’ve been propositioned plenty of times, but nobody’s ever actually invited me out for a coffee date.”

 

“Never? Really?” How had Gabriel been alive for the entire history of the universe and never been invited on a coffee date?

 

Gabriel shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t know if this has escaped you, Samsquatch, but you’re not the type I usually go for.”

 

He mentioned it in that faux-casual way he had, the guarded one that meant that he was testing Sam's reactions to what he said. Sam wasn't sure what he was insecure about, whether it was the fact that he had exes (and maybe their search for Kali had brought this on now he thought about it), or maybe it was about the difference in age between them- but either way, Sam was determined not to make it an issue. He squeezed Gabriel's fingers back. “Well then, I get to be the first to date you. Lucky me!” 

 

Gabriel’s face lit up, a real smile curling his lips and his laughter lines crinkling in the way that they didn’t for anyone else. Sam could never resist reaching up to cup his face and run his thumb ever-so-gently along the soft, vulnerable skin, jaw and cheekbone solid under his fingers, those caramel eyes going even softer. And after that, of course, the only thing that made sense was to bend down and press a kiss to his lips, and then another, their eyes sliding closed.

 

Slowly, they split apart again, both of them swaying slightly. Gabriel still had that soft smile on his face. Sam suspected that he wasn’t the only one who was a hopeless romantic at heart, but he held his tongue, leading them both over to the counter. “Come on. Let’s get you a coffee.”

 

Just as they got to the front, Gabriel turned sheepishly to look at him. “You know I can’t even really taste coffee, right? I can’t really appreciate the stuff.”

 

Sam thought about it for a moment. “This is my dream, isn’t it? Drawing on my memories.” Gabriel nodded slowly. “So don’t taste the coffee as you. Taste it as me.” 

 

“Oh! Sam, you’re a genius.” Gabe glanced at the specials board, then a longer look. “Uh… wow. How the hell do people ever choose what to get? There’s too many!”

 

Sam leaned over his shoulder. “If you want some advice, a few years ago I tried one of those pumpkin spice lattes that everyone’s always giving teenage girls shit about, and I get why they drink them now. They’re delicious. And they’re sweet, since that's what you're used to, so that might be a good place to start.”

  
  
Gabriel snorted. “Well, I’m not letting my non-existent masculinity get between me and delicious drinks. I’ll have one of them!”

 

Sam grinned as he ordered their coffees, and they chatted before picking them up from the counter and taking them over to the cosiest looking nook, Gabriel trailing behind. As soon as they reached their seats, he immediately toed off his shoes so he could sit cross-legged in the nest of blankets. Sam watched him get comfortable. There was an edge of tension that they were both obviously trying to ignore- the nagging feeling that they should be back out there, in the real world, finding more allies rather than living in their dreams. But they were tired. The past week and a half had been non-stop. There had been so many twists and turns in recent months, so much happening, that they couldn’t help taking a moment to breathe in all the chaos.

 

But, Sam admitted to himself as he watched Gabriel tipping an inhuman number of sugar sachets into his drink, there was another, more selfish reason why he was doing this. He and Gabriel were pressed mind-to-mind, day in, day out, but sometimes Sam couldn’t help feeling... alone. 

 

He knew that it was stupid. Gabriel was connected to him in almost the most intimate way possible. Why should bodies matter when Gabriel was caressing his very soul? And yet his stupid human brain was convinced that he was the only one there. He was a tactile being- dreams were the only time when they could touch, when Sam could hold Gabriel’s hand, kiss him. So Sam was going to take as many dreams as he could get. It was a selfish urge, but he couldn’t help it. 

 

He scooted over until their thighs were pressed warm together. Gabriel turned to grin up at him as he emptied the final sugar packet into his monstrosity of a drink. Sam nudged him gently with his shoulder.

 

“Are you gonna drink that coffee?”

 

Gabriel took a dubious sip. Immediately, his eyes went round as saucers, staring down at the creamy foam on top of the drink like it was a divine blessing. 

 

Sam grinned. “So? What’s the verdict?” 

  
  
Gabriel didn’t reply, but he took an enormous gulp. He didn’t even take a breath as he glugged the entire thing, slamming down the cup like he’d just finished downing an enormous shot, breathing hard.

 

“I’m assuming it was good.”

 

Gabriel turned wild eyes on him. “I swear to Dad, Sam, if everything tastes this good as a human, I'm gonna make you wine and dine me every night until the apocalypse arrives." 

 

Sam was grinning so hard his cheeks were aching. "You're saying that like I wasn't planning on doing it anyway!"

 

Gabriel pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'll hold you to that, Winchester." And then he was off,  nearly running to the counter to order another latte.

 

Sam sat back in his seat, throwing his head back with laughter. Whatever might come, they would always have this.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I say again how much I love everyone who comments? You're all fabulous people, you really are! <3  
> I'm especially glad you all seem to like Gaia, I'm like a proud mum sending her first OC out into the world!

 

They finally caught up with Kali in the middle of a small village in rural Bangladesh. 

 

There was a market going on- dust and the shouts of vendors filled the air, the lowing of cattle and excited shrieking as a group of children raced past them. Gabriel knew that Sam would have liked to look around (maybe he’d take them back here if they survived this mess), but unfortunately that wasn’t what they were here for. Not today.

 

Kali was obvious if you had the eyes to see her. She walked as though she owned the place, the crowds of people in the streets parting to let her through without ever noticing her, a calm spot in the current of humanity. 

 

**_There._ **

 

_ Are you sure? _ Sam asked him, watching the goddess.

 

**_She was the only one powerful enough to hold her own against Lucifer for more than a hot minute,_ ** Gabriel pointed out.

 

_ I was thinking more are you sure she won’t try and fry us. _

 

Gabriel turned one side of his mouth up in a rueful smile.  **_That I can’t guarantee._ **

 

She turned as soon as they came close, her eyes narrowing. Out of human sight, her fists on her additional arms clenched. “Trickster.”

 

At least she recognised him. Gabriel gave her a lopsided grin. “First and always.”

 

“You were dead.” There was no surprise in her tone, any emotions at seeing her ex-lover come back to life hidden behind a stony mask.

 

“You know how it is. It never sticks.”

 

Kali breathed out, eyeing them with dark embers in her pupils and nostrils flaring, then turned away from them. “What do you want, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel took a step forwards, and then another, until he was standing next to her, looking out at the sea of people. “I'm putting together a team. Getting the old band back together, bringing in some new faces. Team free will, if you're willing to use Dean Winchester’s corny name for it.” 

 

She closed her eyes. “I said what do you  _ want _ , Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel was silent for a second, assessing her with Sam’s head cocked. When he spoke again, he let his usual levity drop. “I need allies. As many as we can get.”

 

For a second, she didn’t move, the sounds of the people rushing past them on all sides oddly muffled. Then she spoke. “Lucifer killed my friends.” Her voice was flat and dead and terrible. When she looked up, flames were flickering in her irises, the shadows under her brows darkening in their bloody warmth. “He killed my allies. There will never be enough vengeance in the world.”

 

Gabriel nodded carefully. “I understand. I do. They were my friends too. I was trying to get you all out of there, and it backfired. It all went so wrong.” Her expression didn't melt even a fraction, but the fire that had been flickering around her fingers went out.

 

Gabriel took a deep breath. “He's planning to kill more. Not just the gods, Kali. He's planning to kill everyone. Everyone on this planet, everyone in this universe. Once he starts building power, nothing will be able to stop him.” He held out a hand to her and she looked at it disdainfully. “But we have an opportunity now, together, while he’s still weak. You wanted to fight before, Kali. We have a chance. We have a plan and a team. Fight with us. We can stop him.”

 

She looked at his hand for a long time. Then she glanced up at his face, lips thin, eyes narrowed in consideration. “Show me that I can trust you, Loki.  _ Gabriel _ .” She sneered. “Show me why I should follow your lead when I could have an army of my own.”

 

“You don’t stand a chance alone!” Gabriel snapped. “Remember what he did to the others? Ganesh and Odin? What he did to Baldur? He’ll do that to you, just as easily, if you try and take him on directly. He’s too strong for a frontal assault. We have to be smart about this, Kali. And no offence, but being sneaky is not your strong suite. I  _ know  _ them. Better than anyone. Please, let me take the lead.”

 

She laughed, soft and yet hard as granite. “You're a liar, Gabriel. You're not going to kill your brothers. I saw you back at the hotel. The only reason you’re alive is this… unique human you’re wearing.” She eyed Sam with curiosity.

 

“I never lied.” Gabriel said. “And I know I can’t hurt my brothers, especially not now... certain things have come to light. I never said anything about killing, only about fighting. But preventing the apocalypse is what matters, right?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “If they don’t die, then where is my vengeance?”

 

“Funny,” Gabriel threw back, “I thought the survival of your people might be more important than a feud, but obviously not.” Kali scowled dangerously back at him. Gabriel stood his ground.

 

Kali closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, like she was resigning herself. “Very well. I’ll follow your lead in this one, Loki. But if I see an opening, I’ll take it.”

 

She began to walk down the high street, the dust shying away from clinging to her dress. Gabriel did a fist pump behind her back. Sam reigned him in before she could notice. 

 

“Now. Where is this great gathering of warriors taking place?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “Knowing your style, Loki, it will be somewhere overly extravagant. You always were too attached to your opulence and hedonism. So, where are we going? A castle? A palace?”

 

...

 

_ A few seconds later, Bobby Singer’s scrap yard _

 

“This is… this is a dump.” Gabriel and Sam watched with great suppressed amusement as Kali’s lip curled at the sight of the mouldering husks of cars.

 

“Element of surprise, Kali dearest, element of surprise. Where’s the last place anyone would ever think to look for me?” Gabriel spread his arms, taking in the entire grimy scene. “Nobody ever expects to find me slumming it, for some reason.”

 

“You calling my house a slum?” Bobby shouted from the back door. 

 

“You’re the one with a junk yard for a backyard!” Gabriel yelled back, then chuckled. Kali didn’t look impressed. The sound of chatter carried out of the house, Rowena’s high laugh echoing above the rest. There was no yelling or screaming- it did't sound as though they were trying to kill each other in there, which was a surprise. Huh. Dean was better at this babysitting thing than they'd given him credit for.

 

Gabriel gave her an encouraging smile. "Anywho, you go on in and meet the gang. I’ve got one more to pick up, and then we’re done.”

 

.o0o.

 

**_Are you sure about the prophet?_ ** Gabriel asked as he spread his wings wearily, the flight muscles aching from all the flying. They had been in and out of all the continents, checking all of Gabriel’s contacts’ hidey holes one last time, but nothing. They were out of time. But they could manage one final trip. 

 

_ He seemed to see pretty much everything we did, _ Sam told him.  _ He’s human and not a fighter, but even if he's not a fighter he could be useful. And we don't want the other angels getting hold of him. He could tip them off on what we're planning, even if he doesn't mean to.  _

 

**_True._ **

 

They landed with a stagger in the whisky soaked gloom of Chuck’s living room. The place hadn’t improved since the last time Sam had been there. If anything, the mess was worse.

 

Gabriel whistled, looking around. **_Damn, is this how he lives? And I thought Dean had a problem with alcoholism. If we lit a match in here the place would go up like a Molotov._** He guided Sam's long legs expertly around the obstacle course of dirty clothes and empty beer cans. “Chuck?” He called, “Up and at ‘em, we've got an apocalypse to stop!”

 

It was as they rounded the battered sofa that they spotted him. Chuck was hunched over the desk, pale scruffy face turned towards them like an upturned full moon in the night. As Sam watched, the blood drained from his face, leaving him even paler than before. It wasn't the only thing that Sam could see, though. Through Gabriel's senses Chuck glowed, a muted radiance like an eclipse viewed through sunglasses. The glow of divinity. The surprise Sam felt was nothing on the tidal wave of Gabriel's astonishment.

 

“Father.” Gabriel proclaimed, a shocked-blank statement of fact.

 

 _“Father,”_ he repeated, and this time there was ancient grief, and bitter anger, and betrayed trust. Sam recoiled from his tone. An angry wind picked up in the room, sending the beer cans skittering nervously for cover behind the furniture. 

 

“Gabriel, I can explain,” Chuck said, only the more Sam looked at him, the more he saw, and the more it became obvious that the small man in the dirty robe was only a tiny part of something much, much larger.

 

“Explain what, Father? That you abandoned us?” Gabriel was shaking, hands clenched at his sides. “Explain that you looked the other way as our siblings plotted against us and violated us? When Michael cast Lucifer down? Explain that all this time,  _ all this time  _ you’ve been down here, drinking cheap spirits and fucking hookers!!” He advanced on Chuck, Sam’s bulk towering over him, and Chuck seemed to shrink beneath his gaze. “Care to explain that,  _ Father _ ?”

 

“Now, Gabriel, son-” 

 

Gabriel seemed to explode. “SON?! You lost the right to call me son when you abandoned me. When you abandoned us all! What do you have to say? That you're sorry? That you didn't mean it?”

 

Chuck took a deep breath and frowned, drawing himself upright. A hard glint appeared behind his eyes. “You're right, I'm not sorry.”

 

Sam hadn't bought it would be possible for Gabriel to get any more furious. He was in a place beyond words. His grace rose, dangerous. But this was God, this was one fight that they could never win. Chuck’s eyes started to glow, a harsh white light to Gabriel’s warm brilliance. Hastily, Sam leapt up, pushing Gabriel out of the way and taking back control of his body. To his surprise, Gabriel went down without a fight, huddling as far back as he could.

 

Chuck (or God? Was he God now?) did a double take at the changeover. “Sam?”

 

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah. Hey… Chuck.” There were several more seconds where they just stared at each other, neither one knowing what to say. The glow slowly died from Chuck’s eyes. He seemed totally nonplussed by Sam’s sudden appearance. 

 

Sam coughed. “So… you're God?”

 

Chuck nodded and adjusted the front of his dirty robe. “I'm afraid so.” 

 

They just stood there for a while in the darkened room, the awkwardness reducing the consistency of the air to custard. What the hell was he meant to say?  _ So, Chuck, you know how you wrote those creepy, invasive books about our lives and now I think you might have known exactly what you were doing. What the hell? _ Or maybe,  _ I didn’t expect the creator of the universe to be a chronic alcoholic, but it sure explains a lot about humanity. _ Or even,  _ hey Chuck, I saw what you left Gabriel to deal with back in heaven, and the fallout here on earth, and he’s right? You’re an asshole? _ How did he get them out of this without offending a deity who could smite him to a smear with a thought? 

 

Not to mention, Chuck could probably hear his thoughts anyway, Sam realised, watching Chuck’s expression growing progressively more unimpressed. Yeah, that too.

 

“I know what you're going to say,” Chuck broke the silence. “That I've been unfair, and that I should've done something when my children started the apocalypse. That I should have come back when some of the seraphs started manipulating heaven.”

 

Sam scoffed incredulously before he could stop himself. “Well, you should have probably at least talked to them before you took off. Leaving some sort of advice might have kept it all from blowing up. You didn’t exactly do a lot of parenting.”

 

“I wanted them to be independent!” Chuck spread his hands. “I wanted to see whether they would develop their own emotions, their own opinions. I was dubious at first, but they did it! Gabriel has been a great success overall with one or two imperfections from those nasty pagan friends of his,” Sam’s anger grew as he felt Gabriel flinch from the words, “and I see that you've managed to teach Castiel as well. So good job on that, well done.”

 

“That's not… look. I get that you wanted them to think for themselves, that's fine. But you never…” Sam licked his lips, wondering how to phrase it. “You never showed them how to! Children need models. You needed to be there, to guide them into thinking for themselves.  You can't just dump your kids and expect them to do fine without you when you get bored with them and move onto something else! That's neglect, not teaching them a lesson!  All you've done is left them at the mercy of whoever tries to take over. Why did you think Naomi and Zachariah tried to seize control?”

 

Chuck shrugged. “Well, that part was fascinating to watch.”

 

Sam stared. “Fascinating.”

 

Chuck waved off his concerns, turning to start to pick his way through the maze of empty bottles towards the couch. “Well, yeah! The way they adapted that grace scalpel? Ingenious. And even after their first failed attempt, heaven didn’t completely collapse, so I’m calling that experiment a success.”

 

Sam couldn’t keep the fury out of his voice. “A success!? They caused a war! And they’re about to cause another one! Their actions are making heaven rip itself apart, can’t you see that!? If you’ll just help us, we can stop Michael and Lucifer from killing one anoth-”

 

“Oh, I'm not going to stop them.”

 

Sams train of thought wrecked itself on those words. He stared, not quite believing. “What?” 

 

“I want to see how far they’ll go. If they can actually do it.” 

 

Gabriel’s grace went dark and cold. Like the fire had gone out inside him. Sam choked on the wave of grief and abandonment. Angels were made of belief and love; what was this sort of rejection doing to him!? Reaching out with his soul, he desperately wrapped Gabriel up, feeding light and life into him. Lethargically, Gabriel reached back, clinging to him. Sam nearly sobbed in relief when he saw the tiny spark still glowing, an ember defiantly hanging on. 

 

He opened eyes that he hadn’t realised he had closed, finally finding his voice. “They’re… they’re your children… how can you even...”

 

“They are my  _ creations _ .” Chuck’s head was cocked to one side, watching him and Gabriel with interest. He pouted in condescending sympathy. “Sam. Listen. I know that this must look like a tragedy in your eyes, but just remember, you're only human. Your perspective is… limited. And being human, you're naturally inclined towards the human perspective. But although humanity has been a wonderful project, don't get me wrong, your world isn't the only world. Humanity won't be the last beings I make! And I've improved since I made your species. I'm getting better and better all the time!

 

"But the archangels were my first creations. My very first experiment which worked. The leviathans came before, of course, but I don’t count them- the angels were the ones I got sentimentally to. But there’s a time for everything to come to an end." He shrugged nonchalantly, as though they were discussing the outcome of a baseball match rather than the apocalypse. "Who knows? Some of them might make it through this! But whatever, I'm interested to see how this all ends. I’m going to let it play out.” 

 

“Humanity is not a ‘project’,” Sam said through gritted teeth, “we’re not some fun little experiment you can leave on your windowsill. You don't get to discard us every time you make a shiny new toy! And the angels aren't just cool prototypes, they're _people_! People who are gonna die, and suffer, because you won't get off your ass to help!”

 

Chuck shrugged. “It worked out before, didn’t it? Heaven will work itself out again, one way or another.”

 

“Worked!? You’re... sick. You’re delusional. Heaven is not a damn wormery, or, or an ant colony. But that’s how you see it, isn’t it? A neat little experiment. And if they die, oh well, we’re just insects to you. We don’t matter at all.”

 

Chuck’s eyes were ancient and cold as he looked at Sam, all traces of the nervous writer gone. “No. Not really. Your stories, Sam, they matter. The choices you make matter. For you! But for me? As long as the story is good,” he shrugged. “My children’s stories are no different. And you two have been making a magnificent story, gotta say, Sam. You and Gabriel have been a pleasure to follow, a real enthralling read, a few plot twists even I didn’t think were coming, and let me tell you, that’s a compliment.” He smiled sadly. “All you are in the end is stories, Sam. It’s all any of you are. I can’t tell humanity or the angels the truth, obviously. If I told them then people would get sad, and give up, and then there are no more stories, or no real interesting ones anyway. Interesting ones get made by hopeful people. Full of love and tragedy. I can't interfere, that would mess it up.” 

 

He looked a second from rubbing his hands together. Sam clenched his fist to stop himself from letting loose the punch that he could feel brewing. “You can take your stories and shove them up your ass.”

 

Chucks grey eyes grew stormy, his back straightening and the air crackling with power, and Sam was suddenly reminded of exactly what he was talking to. “Mind your words, Sam Winchester.”

 

Sam decided he didn’t care. Anger bubbled through him, bitter and caustic as lava. He glared at God. “I’m not living to give you your stories. Our lives aren’t just some juicy narrative. You say the only meaning in our lives is to provide you with entertainment, but you’re wrong. We give ourselves meaning every single day!  _ We  _ determine what we’ll fight for, what we’ll live for! We hate each other and love each other every single moment of our lives, but don’t you dare think, for even a  _ second _ , that we’re doing it for you!” 

 

He drew himself up to his full height, trembling with rage. “You say that you can't interfere, but you already are, only you won't actually do anything useful because then you'd have to face your children and their judgement for what you've let happen. To the archangels. To heaven. To me and Dean." He turned away, ignoring the slightest twist of guilt to Chuck's mouth. _Good_ , he thought viciously. _He deserved it_. "You won’t help? Fine. Whatever. We’ll sort this mess without you. I’ll leave it up to Gabe and the other archangels if they want anything to do with you afterwards, if any of your children actually make it out of this alive, but between you and me? If you were my dad? I’d walk out the door and never come back.” He bared his teeth in a smile. “But you already know that. That’s my story. You made me like this, like you made Lucifer, and Michael, and Gabriel, so now live with it. Own up to your bullshit. And also,” he turned in the doorway, fixing Chuck with one last sneer, “Writing yourself into your own story? What a cheap, overused trope. Looks like you could learn a thing or two from humanity as well. Starting with a writing course.”

 

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, quickly crossing the darkened hallway and closing the front door behind him with a slam. He flinched a little at the noise, suddenly back at the night that he had left for Stanford, with the same anger and resentment boiling in his stomach, cast out to face the world alone. He could feel Gabriel's shock, though his grace was still dim. 

 

**_Kiddo, you've got some balls of steel, has anyone ever told you that?_ **

 

_ I see what you mean now,  _ Sam said to Gabriel as he strode them away from the house. He didn’t feel God following, but he had the feeling that if He was going to smite them, they wouldn’t have made it out of the front door.

 

**_What?_ **

 

_ Your dad is a massive dick. _ Sam unclenched his fists, his fingers starting to shake from the leftover adrenaline.

 

Gabriel chuckled in surprise and guilty thrill.  **_It runs in the family. I've never seen anyone with the guts to tell the old man where to stick it like that, though._ **

 

Under the thought Sam could see Gabriel's regret that he never could, regret that he was a coward.  _ You’re not a coward. Sometimes, running just makes you smart. Knowing when you’ll be hurt and getting out of dodge isn’t cowardly. He’s the one that let you down.  _ Sam  stopped in the middle of the road, head bowed. _ And I prayed to him,  _ he confessed, _ I prayed and it turns out he never cared at all.  _

 

Gabriel didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled Sam close, the heart of his grace still warm against his soul. He knew what Sam was feeling. Sam could feel it in his grace too, the betrayal that words would never be able to fix. That would always leave a hole in both of them. **_Come on, let's go home,_** he said instead. With a crack of wings, they vanished from the dingy street, leaving chip packets dancing in their wake. 

 

...

 

Dean looked up from where he was leaning against the cabinets as they materialised in the kitchen, beer in hand. “How'd it go? Where's the prophet?”

 

“Sorry, Chuck’s not gonna make it to the reunion,” Gabriel said, reaching for one of the cookies on the counter and looking around. “Where's everyone else?” He could use a distraction to keep from thinking about that confrontation with Father. A house-full of powered up entities should do the trick.

 

Dean smirked. “They were getting twitchy, so Bobby told them to make themselves useful or get out. I think they're out there helping him crush cars right now.”

 

Gabriel laughed, startled. Sure enough, when they glanced out of the window, the back yard was full of figures milling around. Their angelic hearing picked up the familiar sound of Bobby grumbling at people.

 

The back door slammed and Bobby hustled through. He looked up and grunted when he saw them. “There you two are, ‘bout time you got back. They're all out in the yard. Next time, you can babysit your own gods, got it?”

 

Gabriel aimed a sarcastic salute at his retreating back. “Sure thing, pops!”

 

When he turned back, he realised that Dean was watching them intently. A little too intently. "Hey. You okay?"

 

He sighed. "Sam's peachy."

 

"I wasn't asking about Sam."

  
  
Gabriel looked up at him in surprise. "You weren't?"

 

Dean huffed, gripping the bottle of beer tighter like it was a talisman against displaying too much emotion. "Hey, I got a lifetime's experience of reading expressions on Sam's face, even when it's not Sam behind the wheel. So. What's wrong?"

 

Gabriel was silent for a minute, Sam quiet at the back of his head, he and Dean both waiting for his reply. The sounds of muffled destruction filtered in from outside, punctuated by Fen's excited barks.

 

"It didn't go well," he said eventually, "and I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet. But the effort's appreciated, Deano."

 

Dean nodded, looking a little relieved. "Okay, uh, good. Right. You better go out and talk to the troops before they destroy the scrap yard. I gotta go fix this warding, and, um, some other stuff. Catch you later."

 

Gabriel and Sam both watched in surprise as he gave a little wave and made a quick exit from the kitchen, their eyebrows rising. **Huh. I didn't know he cared.**

 

_He does,_ Sam reassured him. _He just doesn't know how to express it a lot of the time._

 

Gabriel grinned. _**Who knew your brother was hiding a heart of gold under all that pig-headedness?**_

 

Sam's thoughts curled themselves into a shrewd smirk. _Yeeeeah. Sounds like someone else I know..._

 

**_Watch it, Winchester._ **

 

Dean was right, they did need to go and keep an eye on their allies. They wandered out into the yard, following the roaring sound like a thousand welding torches. Kali was standing in front of a hulking wreck of a truck, a torrent of fire rushing from her open palms. The metal flowed, starting to drip and melt, until the entire vehicle collapsed inwards in a puff of embers.

 

Gaia, meanwhile was staring at a car with a frown. Nothing appeared to be happening.

 

“Some of us just have a greater gift for destruction.” Kali sounded almost… smug? Gaia turned her head for just long enough to bare one gleaming fang in Kali’s direction before turning back to her project.

 

_ Is she... jealous? _ Sam asked Gabriel disbelievingly. 

 

**_Oh, yeah. Divine get togethers are always one big dick measuring competition._ **

 

Gaia's glare at the rusting metal intensified. As they watched rust grew like a red fungus, devouring the paintwork, holes appearing in fast forward until nothing was left but a pile of reddish earth. Gaia looked back at Kali, somehow managing to look smug.

 

“It may take me a while, but I have the gift of destruction too. A goddess of life must also be a goddess of death.” 

 

Kali’s eyes narrowed as if she was considering starting throwing fireballs.

 

Balthazar was lazily watching the spectacle, grey eyes sharp behind half-lowered lids. He turned to Crowley, who was standing stiffly as though worried he’d ruin his suit if he leant against anything. “What about you, hellspawn? Aren't you going to have a go?”

 

Crowley curled his lip at the angel. “Unlike some celestial morons, I know when to admit that I’m outmatched. Please, do show the goddesses your powers, I'm sure they'll be very impressed right before they toast you like a tea cake.”

 

“Now then boys,” Rowena smiled slyly at them as she sauntered past, “no fighting! This is a peaceful meeting after all. But that's not to say we can't have a little... competition.” She drew something out of her dress that crackled with dark energy in Gabriel’s vision, lobbing it at the closest car. It exploded on impact, instantly forming a sucking portal that swallowed the car whole before disappearing entirely. Rowena looked smug. Kali’s eyes narrowed. 

 

Dean yelled out of the kitchen window. “Hey! Bobby needs that scrap! Cut it out with the banishing.” A second later, the back door shut with a bang as he came grumbling over to join them, shooting Gabriel a frustrated glance. “I can’t leave any of you alone for five minutes!” Gabriel grinned and raised his hands in innocence.

 

Balthazar looked impressed, leaning forwards towards Rowena and suddenly much more interested in the proceedings. “Now that was quite a trick! What else have you got hidden up those sleeves, you little minx?”

 

“Wouldn't you like to know,” Rowena purred. 

 

Dean pretended to gag behind Rowena’s back. Crowley gave a pained grimace. “Please, mother, I would like to keep my eyes.”

 

Kali had apparently taken Rowena’s display as a challenge, because she strode towards another car, and Sam realised she was getting taller with every step, her face just starting to morph into something inhuman.

 

Suddenly Gabriel's sharp ears caught a commotion from the house, new voices raised. 

 

“What the hell is going on here?” There was something familiar about the woman’s voice... “I’ve had residents reporting what sounds like shots fired and honest to god fireballs on your property! Now you’re not gonna tell me what’s going on it I’m going out there to find out myself, Bobby Singer!”

 

“Jody, I wouldn't go out there-!”

 

Jody burst out of the back door just in time to see Kali manifest two more sets of arms and unleash a screaming torrent of flame onto the car. The pillar of fire roared for a second or two before cutting off, leaving only a heat haze and a pile of metal slurry. Kali’s lips quirked, satisfied, flames still flickering in her palms, before turning to face the humans.

 

“What,” Jody said weakly, boggling at the scene. Her eyes flickered from Kali’s extra limbs, to Gaia’s horns, to the giant wolf rolling happily in the dusty red wrecks of the cars.

 

“Uh, hi Jody!” Dean waved. Behind her, Bobby slapped his palm to his forehead.

 

“Jody, I can explain-”

 

Jody threw up her hands, spinning and walking back into the house. Gabriel watched her go, amused.

 

**_Jody Mills, yeah? I thought you said she knew about the supernatural?_ **

 

Sam sighed.  _ She knew about zombies and spirits. It's a bit different from having a load of gods show up in your backyard. _ Gabriel watched through the walls as the sheriff gesticulated wildly at Bobby. They were going to have to fill her in and keep her here. It wasn’t like they had much of a choice, they couldn’t let knowledge of their plan get into the wrong hands.

 

Kali and Gaia barely seemed to notice the human commotion going on behind them. The two were staring at each other, tension crackling in the air between them. Gaia was eyeing Kali with something indistinguishable in her dark eyes. Gabriel wondered if he was going to have to break up a fight, but the goddess simply bent down and placed a splayed hand on the earth. The soil rolled like a boiling pot. Then a spear of green poked out of the bare earth. It paused, then shot a meter into the air, glossy leaves and branches unfolding in fast forward until it was a fully-formed bush. Then all over the lush vegetation, buds emerged, red petals unfurling. The growth slowed, then stopped. The plant looked unreal, vividly alive in the arid dustbowl of Bobby’s scrapheap. 

 

Gaia bent forwards, gently plucking a red blossom from a branch. She rose, walking gracefully forwards and holding it out to Kali. “You are skilled. I will be honoured to fight by your side.”

 

Kali took the flower automatically, looking as surprised as everyone else. She held it gingerly in front of the others’ surprised faces, as though she was afraid her fingers might crush the delicate petals.

 

“Get in here, all of you!” Bobby yelled from the back door. “Jody wants a word! And we might as well have some sort of godforsaken strategy meeting while we’re at it!”

 

With a few eyerolls and groans, their oddball group got to their feet, heading one by one into the house. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw Kali tuck the bloom into her hair. He smiled as he filed in after them.

 

...

 

As odd as it had been to see the mismatched gang of beings in the scrap yard, it was even stranger to see them all sprawled over Bobby’s tired furniture. Kali sniffed as she looked around before settling in Bobby’s chair behind the desk. Bobby opened his mouth, then obviously thought better of complaining and sat next to Gaia on the couch. Gabriel snapped up another couple of chairs for everyone else, all different styles and sizes, from an elegant antique wingback chair (which he quickly sat on), right down to a fold-out plastic stool. With a minimum of grumbling, everyone slowly sorted themselves. A disgruntled Dean, realising there were no other alternatives that didn’t involve sitting within pinching range of Rowena, perched himself on the stool. Instead of transforming, Fenrir collapsed with a satisfied  _ whuff _ on Sam's feet. Gabriel gave him a scratch behind the ears. 

 

“So, let me get this straight,” Jody said when everyone had settled down. She had the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers, her eyes closed. “Most of you are gods. Or angels. Or demons.”

 

“Don’t forget the witch, dear!” Rowena piped up jauntily from between Balthazar and Gaia. Bobby glared at her, patting Jody consolingly on the arm. It didn’t seem to be working. 

 

“... or witches, I guess. And you,” Jody pointed accusingly at Gabriel, “are not actually Sam. You’re the angel possessing Sam.”

 

Gabriel happily dug their fingers into the ruff at the back of Fenrir’s neck. “Correctamundo. Gabriel, at your service.”

 

Jody didn’t even look surprised anymore, just resigned. “As in the archangel Gabriel?”

 

He winked at her. “Got it in one! Give that lady a raise, she should clearly be a detective.”

 

“They swap over a lot,” Dean interjected from his stool, “so if he stops being annoying, you know it’s Sam.” Gabriel stuck his tongue out at him in childish retaliation. Dean flipped him the bird.

 

“Bobby, can I have a word?” Jody’s voice was strained. She stood, took hold of Bobby by the sleeve and more or less dragged him out of the room. 

 

Outside the room, Jody’s voice echoed loud and clear to sensitive ears. “Robert Singer, what the hell? The ghost hunting and the… the zombies I just about got over, but this!?”

 

Bobby sighed. “There’s an apocalypse going on, Jodes. What could I do, sit back and watch the world go to hell? They’re the only beings powerful enough to help us outta this mess.”

 

“I don't care how powerful they are, Bobby!” Jody whispered sharply. “There are my people here, I've got a duty to protect this town!” 

 

Gabriel grinned around at the room. Kali was inspecting her nails. Crowley was squashed into a space two inches next to Gaia, and was looking deeply uncomfortable about it as she snuffled at him. 

 

Bobby sighed, sounding harried. “Jody, they ain’t gonna attack people… probably. That ain’t why they’re here. Look, we’ll catch you upon the plan, alright? If there was another option, we wouldn’t be doing this. I don’t want to put anyone in danger any more than you do, Jody, but this is the world at stake here!”

 

Jody was quiet for a long minute. Gabriel could see her soul through the wall, the ball of light swirling agitatedly with her indecision. Finally she took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Okay. alright.”

 

She walked back in, Bobby behind her. She turned in front of the window to face them all. “So, seeing as gods are living in my town now,” she drew in a deep breath and her eyebrows rose as if she still couldn't believe it, “we’re gonna need to lay down some ground rules.” She scowled around at the assembled deities. “No fighting, killing, destroying, whatever. Try for the love of God not to draw attention to yourselves. I don't want to have to explain to the press why people are reporting cases of spontaneous combustion. And you- no more possessing anybody!” She pointed a foreboding finger at Gabriel who raised his hands innocently.

 

“Wasn’t planning on it!”

 

Kali crossed her legs, long fingernails ticking against the arm of the chair. “Hmmm. I like you. You have guts, for a mortal.”

 

Gabriel felt Sam’s surprise and admiration as Jody raised her chin at the intimidating goddess. “Seems like few enough of anyone else is going to protect us. Someone needs to step up.”

 

“Your requests are reasonable,” Gaia rumbled. “We will abide by them.”

 

“They won’t be here for long, Jody. Another day at most.” Bobby tried to reassure her.

 

Jody looked around at each of their faces in turn. “Why? What’s going down tomorrow?”

 

They all turned to look at Gabriel. Jody followed their gazes. Gabriel paused where he had been petting Fen, looking up at the expectant silence.

 

“The apocalypse. Or, the end of it, we hope. Don’t you worry though sheriff, we’ve got a plan!”

 

Jody laughed, a little hysterically. “Oh sure, just the apocalypse. Nothing too important.” She flopped down into the final remaining seat, turning her attention towards Gabriel. “Let’s hear it, then. What’s the plan?”

 

Crowley sighed, taking advantage of the lull to prise himself off the couch and away from Gaia’s inquisitive snuffling. “If we’re going over this again, I think I need a drink.”

 

…

 

Gabriel reiterated the plan, everyone listening uncharacteristically quietly as he outlined the main events. When he was finished, Jody sat back, obviously thinking. “So everyone just casts different restraining spells until Gabriel undoes the brainwashing. That sounds… too simple.”

 

Gabriel snorted. “You’re right. It won’t be. They’re archangels, and I know my brothers. They’ll be fighting every step of the way. I wish we had more time to gather more participants, but we’re on a time limit. Rowena’s spells need a specific moon phase to be most effective, and what’s more, the apocalyptic omens have been escalating. It’s only a matter of days before Luci makes his move. I’d prefer to stop them while there’s still a planet to save.”

 

Dean nodded along. “So we’ve got Rowena’s spells, Kali’s got her fire, I presume Gaia’s gonna tie them down with vines or something.” Gaia didn’t look offended, just snorted in amusement. “What about the colt? I know it won’t kill them, but it might surprise them.” He turned to Crowley, who was standing awkwardly next to the end of the couch with his drink. “Crowley, have you still got it?”

 

Crowley grimaced and set down his whisky. “Damn it. Wish I’d thought of that before I gave it to those idiot hunters.”

 

“Wait, you gave the colt to Walt!?” Dean said loudly. “That’s where he got it from!? The asshole nearly shot us again with that thing!”

 

Behind Crowley’s back, Balthazar snagged his glass, downing the whisky in one swig and setting the empty glass back in the table.

 

Crowley sighed testily. “Look, the idiots summoned me. What was I meant to do? I thought at the time that either it wouldn't work because Lucifer would bring the moose back, and then it wouldn't matter, or it  _ would  _ work and the devil would be out of true vessels. Don't deny you didn’t think about it, Sam.” 

 

The worst thing was, Gabriel knew that Sam had considered it. His grace constricted in upset just thinking about what might have happened if Sam had been left alone with the colt. Sam must have felt his thoughts, because he wrapped himself close, letting Gabriel feel the warmth of his living soul.  _ I wouldn’t,  _ he murmured,  _ not anymore. _ Gabriel embraced him back. 

 

“So unless we can find it, the colt’s out.” Crowley brought them back from their internal conversation. “Anyone else have any bright ideas?” He picked up his glass, bringing it to his mouth before realising it was empty. He scowled down at it, eyes narrowing, then glared around the room. Balthazar kept his gaze fixed on the wood of Bobby’s desk, the picture of innocence. Gabriel suppressed a snort of laughter.

 

Everyone seemed to be thinking, but nobody came forwards.

 

“What if we combined our powers?” Everybody stopped to look at Gaia. She conjured a vine, winding around her fingers, her power glowing soft green to Gabriel’s vision.“It might not work for things as specific as spells, Rowena, but for elemental magic such as mine and Kali’s it should work. Combining our powers could make them more powerful. And even if it doesn’t, it ensures that neither of Gabriel’s brothers will have come across it before, and will therefore have no defences against it.”

 

Balthazar leaned forwards, winking at Rowena. “I always was interested in witchcraft.” Rowena gave him a sly, considering smile. Dean pretended to gag again.

 

Kali was still looking at Gaia, her eyes fixed on the other goddess. “We will have to practice.” She said, but her tone suggested she was considering it.

 

“We still have a little time left. Enough to count.”

 

Gabriel clapped his hands. “Alright, sounds good! Everyone partner up, this might just work!”

 

Everyone broke into conversation, but before Gabriel could join in, Jody grabbed his sleeve, pulling him aside. “You’re Gabriel at the moment, yes? Not Sam?” He nodded. Jody looked around the room at the rest, even Fenrir shifting to his human form to join in. “I’m coming with you tomorrow. Whatever happens, I need to know. I can’t… I can’t just sit this out. But do you think it will be enough? There’s only,” she did a quick headcount, “ten of you, nine if we count you and Sam as one. Against two archangels. I’m just trying to be realistic about our chances here.”

 

Gabriel shrugged, feigning nonchalance over his anxiety. “Guess we’re gonna find out.” It wasn’t as though they had much choice. Jody fixed him with an unimpressed look and he amended his assessment. “Not good, okay? I’d say it’s fifty-fifty that it works.”

 

Jody looked grim but nodded. “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” Gabriel fixed on a smile and raised his voice, addressing the room. “So, last night on earth. Who wants to party!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps no shade at people who write self inserts, Sam is Very Mad and fishing for insults. You go ahead and write those self insert fics!
> 
> Also, I feel like my interpretation of Chuck is much colder than in canon, but seriously? Not only sitting by and watching the apocalypse happen but also having front row seats for the destruction and trauma!? Very much a dick move.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready?
> 
> Are you ready??
> 
> ARE YOU READY???

 

As it turned out, impending doom didn’t make for a great party atmosphere. Everyone was quiet, drifting off on their own after their little meeting, absorbed in their own thoughts. Gabriel and Sam sat outside on the hood of a car, pretending to quadruple-check their warding but really watching as the sun slowly descended towards the horizon.

 

**_Well, this is depressing,_ ** Gabriel sighed eventually.  **_Not exactly what I had planned for my last night on Earth._ ** Sam made a noise of agreement. Gabriel would have tried to slip into their dreams, to spend the last little bit of time in Sam’s arms, but they were both too tense. They would never be able to sleep like this. 

 

Their eyes drifted across the scene before sticking on a small pile of wood. He looked around in puzzlement. Just as they were about to ask, Bobby walked past, more wood in his arms. 

 

“Is that a bonfire?”

 

Bobby shrugged, grunting as he tossed the pallet onto the pile. “You ever heard of a party without a bonfire, boy? Might be our last night, might as well make it a good one. Help me get this wood on the pile, would you? Kali, you got a light?”

 

Gabriel bounced up with a grin. “I knew I liked you for some reason, Robert.”

 

“Don’t push it. Go get some more wood!”

 

…

 

The night improved considerably after that.

 

Dean was leaning against a nearby car doing his best last-night-on-earth routine with Cas, lining up shots in the dirt, the amber liquid inside throwing back the firelight until they seemed to glow, and downing them until Bobby cut him off. “You’re gonna want to be sober for facing down archangels,” he’d berated him, and Dean had muttered mutinously before reluctantly agreeing. After that the two had just talked, heads close together and hair catching the firelight, ignoring the rest. Sam and Gabriel hadn’t disturbed them.

 

The others had been busy practising combining their powers. Kali and Gaia seemed to be bonding, murmuring together as they crafted flowers made of glowing embers. Rowena and Balthazar were having a heated discussion about wards, pulling Bobby and a human-shifted Fenrir into the argument to back up their points. Crowley was steadily working his way through his third bottle of scotch, occasionally sneaking Bobby a glass where Balthazar couldn’t reach it. Jody was on the phone near the edge of the circle, pulling all the strings she could to ensure that no humans would be caught in the firing line of the fight.

 

Sam and Gabriel sat by the fire, closer to the flames than Sam should have been able to sit. The warmth flickered over their skin pleasantly. Gabriel slid his fifteenth marshmallow off the skewer and onto a graham cracker before sandwiching it with chocolate, smiling as it oozed out when he bit in, the sugar exploding over their tongue in a buzz of glucose. 

 

_ You’re disgusting, _ Sam told him fondly.

 

Gabriel ignored him, smirking as he wiped the sticky sweetness from around their mouth and licked it off their fingers with relish. Sam mulled over something as he watched Gabriel impale another marshmallow. Gabriel must have felt it, as close together as they were pressed.  **_What’s on your mind, Sam? I can hear your thoughts spinning from here._ **

 

_ Do you think… Do you think it would make a difference if we fought- you know… together? _

 

Gabriel hesitated.  **_What, like we did the first time we took on Lucifer?_ **

 

_ No, more like that time we... merged. While we were fighting Pestilence. _

 

Surprise spiked in Gabriel’s grace, followed immediately by hope and fear. He stared into the flames, absentmindedly chewing the inside of Sam’s lip as a thousand conflicting emotions swirled against Sam’s soul. Sam waited patiently. Eventually, Gabriel spoke, hesitant but insistent.  **_It's called Bonding. here’s a reason we- angels- don’t do that, you know. Bonding would be a far greater loss of autonomy than just possession. That wouldn’t just be me taking over your body, it’s… it’s giving up your mind and soul to me. Becoming a_ ** **part** **_of me. Just three months ago you wouldn’t have even let anyone possess you! And besides, it’s risky. If we join too far, we might never come apart again. We might fuse so closely that we can’t separate without causing fatal damage._ **

 

_ You say that like it’s a bad thing,  _ Sam said, only half joking.

 

**_This isn’t funny, Sam! My grace might reject your soul, like your body having an immune reaction to a transplanted organ. I might rip you apart if we’re not a match! Then where would we be, huh? Or what if you got lost inside my grace? What if you just dissolved, got too spread out to really be_** **you** ** _any more? Father above, I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you._** He grimaced, their eyes fixed on the flames.

 

_ But if it did work, it would make you more powerful, wouldn’t it?  _ Sam persisted.  _ If my soul is like a nuclear reactor, I could give you a boost. You managed to heal an entire hospital full of people the last time we did it. And archangel laced with soul energy, surely that would be different enough to pure grace to make your restraints more effective in the same way as combining powers works for the others?  _

 

Gabriel was quiet for so long that Sam would have thought he’d fallen asleep if he didn’t know better.  _ Your marshmallow is burning,  _ he commented.

 

Gabriel pulled the marshmallow out of the flames, blowing until the blue flames stopped flickering over it and then staring at the blackened husk morosely.  **_It would be an advantage, you’re right,_ ** he admitted.  **_But I’m not sure if I’m willing to risk you for that. You mean too much to me,_ ** he whispered on the end.  **_I can’t lose you, Sam._ **

 

Sam softened.  _ It’s my risk to take, _ he reminded Gabriel gently,  _ and this is the world we’re talking about. I don’t mind being tied to you forever if we can save everyone. Besides, I didn’t notice any rejection the last time we did this. I think we’re safe from that. _

 

**_That’s what I’m afraid of, you being tied to me._ ** Before Sam could become offended, he clarified, **_What if you change your mind? I’m not doing this if it’s just some… some matyristic urge to sacrifice yourself for the good of all! I won’t let you!_ ** Gabriel declared adamantly.  **_Humans are only meant to last a century. Your souls aren’t meant to be on earth that long, your minds aren’t designed for that length of time. I’m immortal, Sam. When I say you’ll be stuck with me, I mean forever, and you can’t even imagine it. It would drive you mad. You can’t imagine eternity._ **

 

_ I don’t think eternity would be so bad with you. You’d keep me sane, right? _

 

**_I’d try._ **

 

They were quiet for a while, both lost in their thoughts, trying to come to a decision.  Out of the corner of their eye they could see Bobby playing cards with Jody, Rowena and Balthazar. Dean’s head was slowly nodding onto Cas’ shoulder.

 

**_I just wish..._** Gabriel's voice trailed off. **_I wish this was a choice you were making because you actually wanted to, you know? Not out of necessity. I wish we had time, for you to think about it and for me to tell you everything, for you to experience more of the world before you make this, because you're so_ young _, Sam, you don't even know how young you are... It's a commitment, but for angels, it's also sacred. The ultimate declaration of devotion, giving up your individuality to be with the one you love... it was never meant to be used like this._**

 

_We don't have to if you don't want to,_ Sam said softly. He had suspected that it might have meant more to angels, and he wished they had more time- time to properly work things through, time to convince Gabriel that this really was what he wanted- but time was one thing they didn't have.

 

They stared into the flames together. Patterns of light formed, dissipated, reformed again.

 

**_Alright,_ ** Gabriel said quietly. **_It’s your choice. If you’re sure._ **

 

_ I’m sure, _ Sam told him, injecting all the sincerity he could into the words.  _ But it’s your choice as well. Are  _ you  _ sure? _ He tried not to let on too much of his eagerness for that warmth, that closeness that he’d felt the first time they accidentally did this.

 

**_I am. Sam, I need your explicit permission. Tell me I can do this. Tell me you_ ** **want** **_this. Not just for the world. Tell me you want_ ** **me.** **_Please._ ** Gabriel sounded almost desperate.

 

_ Yes. _

 

**_Then... Yes. Okay._ **

 

Wordlessly, Gabriel reached out a tendril of grace, Sam inching closer. They were pressed together, so close, folded and wrapped up in each other so tight that they could feel each other’s thoughts as though they were their own. And then the barriers between them dissolved, and they were flowing into each other like a tributary into a river, like ink through water. They weren’t two beings but one.

 

But Sam wasn’t lost within the vastness of Gabriel’s grace like they had worried. The brightness of his soul unfurled, suffusing through the whole of them like a network of veins, carrying his soullight right to the edges of their grace. And of course there was no rejection, no chance of harm. Of course there wasn’t. They were one. They hummed with pleasure at the thought, rejoicing that they were whole.

 

_ I told you it would work, _ the Sam-part thought smugly.

 

**_Shut up,_ ** the Gabriel-part huffed, relaxing.

 

They blinked their eyes open, swaying a little before they regained their balance in front of the bonfire. None of the others seemed to have noticed the change, still talking quietly among themselves.

 

They scooched back against the nearest car, next to Castiel and Dean. Cas raised his gaze from Dean’s sleeping form, raising an eyebrow as he looked them up and down, his wings twitching behind him, but he didn’t make any comment, settling back down. GabrielSam closed their eyes, a quiet smile playing across their face, the murmuring of their allies soft in their ears. For now, they were content.

 

 

...

 

Eventually, though, the flames died. The dawn rose, overcast and grim. It was time.

 

“If the end of the world is coming, I’m driving baby to it,” Dean insisted. GabrielSam didn’t argue. Instead, they stuffed themselves into the back seat as the rest of the cars in their little convoy peeled away. They watched out of the window as Bobby’s house receded behind them instead of where Dean and Cas’ hands were clasped together on the front seat.

 

They drove. The cemetery was only an hour’s drive, but the tense atmosphere in the car stretched it to an eternity. It was quiet apart from the familiar lyrics of Dean’s tapes and the rumbling of the engine.

 

“Wait. Isn’t that Walt’s car?” Dean’s voice broke the silence. They opened their eyes to see him squinted into the rear view mirror. They turned, but the car had dropped back, turning off. Dean shook his head. “Nah, can’t have been. Looked familiar, that was all.”

 

They got to the graveyard where it was all prophesied to go down in good time, but their stomach was already knotting with nerves. After taking one look at their face, Bobby stepped forwards, taking charge. “Alright, we all know what we’ve got to do, so let’s make it snappy. Gabriel, Sam, you’re on wards. Gaia, Kali, Balthazar, you take the outer sigil sets. Crowley, Cas, you have emergency containment, Rowena you’re in charge of spells. Me and Jody will secure the perimeter. We’ve got an hour till this needs to be complete, let’s go!”

 

They split up, GabrielSam going to stand in the very centre of the graveyard. They stopped, looking around. They could sense the others, their life-forces glowing to angelic vision, the mortal’s souls smaller than the deities but no less bright. The wispy energies of a few spirits quickly fled on seeing the party. They closed their eyes, drawing on the powers of the earth around them.

 

_ We got this? _

 

**_You bet._ ** They reached out with their grace, starting to draw the first ring of altered sigils, carefully scorching them into the earth in lines of holy fire. The smell of burning grass and baked earth filled the air.

 

They were halfway through the first ring when they became aware of a new soul in their awareness, one that was prickling with agitation, fear and aggression. They opened their eyes.

 

To their surprise, Walt was standing in the middle of the field, frozen, mouth open, gaping in shock at Gaia’s naked, bison-headed form.  _ What’s that bastard doing here?  _ The Sam-part hissed. The gun held at Walt’s side twitched upwards, and they reached forwards with their grace instinctively, preparing to yank the colt out of his grip, but they didn’t have to. Dean came up behind him and Walt yelped when he was grabbed by the collar and dragged backwards. A shot rang out, making Gaia snort and toss her head, but the bullet went wide.

 

“What the hell!?”

 

“The fuck are you doing here, Walt? Get out!” Dean was growling. GabrielSam closed their eyes to tune them out now that the threat was being dealt with, too busy constructing the wards. They were on a time limit here, they couldn’t afford any distractions.

 

Walt’s voice still persisted, whining in their ear like a mosquito. “What the hell are you  _ doing  _ out here!? What  _ is  _ that!? Tell me or I shoot it! I’ll shoot you all!!”

 

GabrielSam completed the inner ring, the crackle of magic sparking as the dome of tightly interwoven wards activated into a shimmering soap-bubble barrier. They started on the outer runes.

 

“Get outta here before I call Kali over to roast your ass! Some of us actually have important work to do!” 

 

There was a scuffle and the sound of booted footsteps. “I’ll deal with him,” Jody said grimly. “Come on you.  Move it.” There were a series of thumps and yells, presumably Walt being ‘persuaded’ to exit the circle. 

 

GabrielSam finished up the outer runes and opened their eyes, grinning despite themself when Dean came stomping over in almost comical annoyance. “He gone?”

 

“Stupid asshole,” Dean muttered, brushing dust off his jacket. “Probably would have been better if you’d smited him, but I figured you were busy.” Then he smirked. “But on the plus side, guess what the asshat brought with him?” 

 

They grinned when Dean held up the colt, the light gleaming off the barrel. “Finally! Well, that should improve our chances!” Dean tried to offer it to them, but they held up a hand, pushing it back towards him. “No, you take it. We’ll be fighting with our sword, you’ll be able to aim it better if you’ve got two hands free.”

 

Dean nodded, looking at their face carefully as he tucked the colt into the back of his jeans. He hesitated, then asked, “Who’s in charge right now? Seriously, I can’t tell.”

 

They grinned mischievously. “We are.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “We? We as in both of you?” They nodded. Dean was silent for a moment, just searching their face. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

 

...

 

Finally, it was ready. All the preparations were made.

 

GabrielSam looked around. The pre-battle atmosphere was heavy, everyone’s faces grim. They looked around the circle, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes and seeing only determination. All of their allies, gathered and in position. 

 

There were no grand speeches. There was nothing more to be said. They were really going to do this. They were as well prepared as they could be, but it all suddenly looked incredibly small and insufficient in the face of what they were about to do.  _ It’ll be enough. It has to be. _

 

Dean was last. He nodded, and the part of them that was Sam knew that it was for him, their ritual that said  _ good luck, be safe _ . They took a deep breath, looking around the assembled beings, addressing them all. “Ready?”

 

Dean and Cas both nodded. GabrielSam sent up one last prayer to a father they no longer believed in, letting their blade manifest in their palm. Now.

 

Dean closed his eyes to pray to Michael and Sam did the same with Lucifer. They stepped into the inner circle of wards with a feeling of finality, feeling the magic cinch in tight around their grace. Although they had designed them to affect the other archangels more, they still wouldn’t be able to fly out of the warding without shredding their wings. Either they would win, or they wouldn’t be walking out of this circle.

 

There was a minute of tense silence. 

 

Lucifer arrived first. The sound of wings gave them a half-second warning, and then he was there, standing in the middle of the circle. He glanced around, and GabrielSam could track how his expressions changed; smug satisfaction at seeing Sam changing to hesitation when he registered Kali standing behind them, morphing to a double-take of confusion when he saw Gaia’s strange appearance, and then finally red-hot anger as the wards activated and pinned him to the spot.

 

Michael appeared with another rush of wings, his vessel the body of the Winchesters’ half brother. He looked around coolly, scowling when he caught sight of them all. “What is the meaning of this? It isn’t the correct time for the confrontation. It’s too early.”

 

GabrielSam held up their hands. “Bear with me, Mikey, we’re going a little off-script.”

 

Michael did a double take. “Gabriel? Is that you?”

 

Out of human sight, they spread their wings wide, letting them catch the sunlight. For a second, they thought they saw something stir behind Michael’s eyes; wonder, and recognition, maybe even happiness. 

 

Then it was gone. Like it had never even existed. Michael’s voice was cold when he spoke again. “We thought you were long gone. Maybe you should have stayed that way if you mean to interfere. Don’t try and get in our way, little brother. You know you won’t win.”

 

“Now just listen to us for a second!” GabrielSam held their hands out. “You don’t have to do this, either of you! There’s been something off with this whole kit and kaboodle from the beginning. Things that don’t add up. You’ve felt it, yeah?” Lucifer glanced at Michael, unsure in the presence of his older sibling. Michael ignored him, still glaring at Gabriel. “You’ve been manipulated, we all have. Our memories have been tampered with. Please, just let us unlock the lost ones.”

 

Michael’s lip curled. “Let you interfere in my mind, Gabriel? I don’t think so. There is no weakness in my thoughts.”

 

“It’s not a weakness, it’s deliberate tampering! I’m trying to help!”

 

Michael drew himself up, his blade materialising in his hand. “I don’t think you are, little brother. You always were one for tricks.” He gestured towards them, and they yelped as bands of grace tightened around their chest and wings. Michael ignored their struggles, turning away. “Lucifer. Are you ready to fight?”

 

They fought against the bindings. “No!” Out of the corner of their vision they could see their allies shifting, unsure whether to interfere, but their own horrified eyes were fixed on their brothers as they began to pace towards one another.

 

_ Pagan powers! Use our pagan powers! _

 

Gabriel did. Loki’s magic flowed around him, covering his grace with a slippery coating, and suddenly the grace bindings couldn’t get traction. A wriggle, a squirm, and they burst free, and not a second too soon. Lucifer and Michael were circling each other, a terrible mirror of Gabriel’s memories. They saw Michael tense, ready to leap. With a yell they threw themselves forwards between them, and everything turned to light and thunder and violence.

 

…

 

Dean watched in horror as his brother threw himself between the archangels. Dust billowed up, swallowing him whole, obscuring everything. Electricity crackled through the cloud, illuminating snapshots of figures in violent poses, the shield sparking as it buffered against the magic of battling archangels.

 

“SAM!!”

 

“Dean! No!” Cas seized him by the sleeve, holding him back. “We can’t help them!” Beside him, Kali was following the fight with narrowed eyes, muttering under her breath. Gaia snorted uneasily. Crowley looked as though he was considering running. 

 

“Hold!” Bobby bellowed over the chaos. Fenrir snarled, electricity reflected in his wide eyes. 

 

The ground under them rocked suddenly, violent as a deck in a storm, cracks opening up as the earth rose in visible waves around the epicentre and sent them to their knees. There was an earsplitting shriek, an atomic  _ boom  _ that shook his bones, and Cas grabbed him, putting his body between Dean and the battle, but he was a second too late. Dean was still looking when the dome lit up with light, bright as a supernova. He saw the column of Jimmy Novak’s spine, illuminated through Cas’ neck by the sun exploding behind him. He saw the inner circle of runes shatter like so much brittle glass, the terrible corona of light swelling outwards until it crashed into the next dome. He saw the shadows of Cas’ wings mantle protectively around him.

 

Heat washed over him, skin-blistering wind blasting his face even where it was buried in the rough folds of Cas’ trenchcoat. He gasped, blinking away grit, panic and agony. His eyes burnt, he could feel tears streaming down his face. He should be blind. He opened his eyes and nearly screamed when he saw nothing but white, the noise making it up his throat as a high moan. But there was movement in all the light. Shapes coalesced, people running back and forth. Their allies. Strengthening the wards, he realised. And behind them, the tumult of the fighting archangels still raged. But now he could see terrible shapes moving around them, bent and folded to fit within the confines of the wards. He tried not to look too closely.

 

He coughed, spitting blood and dust into the dirt as he stumbled upright. Cas was right. The only way he could help Sam was to help the others strengthen their defences. He would be no use in there.

 

The colt dug into the small of his back, a cold metallic reminder. That was his job, no matter how helpless he felt in the face of this. Keeping Sammy safe.

 

...

 

The light from the collision of two of the most powerful beings in the universe died slowly, leaving GabrielSam lying on the scorched earth. Their ears were ringing. They tried to get up, but their limbs weren’t working, leaving them panting, useless on the blackened ground. Across the circle from one another, Michael and Lucifer were sitting in a similar position, dazed by the contained blast.

 

Lucifer was the first to gather himself, shaking his head and staggering to his feet before either of the others had sufficiently healed their vessels, dragging himself towards his brother with one wing trailing and single-minded, murderous intent in his eyes. GabrielSam tried to get up, but their legs collapsed out from under them.

 

But before Lucifer could reach Michael something dark and huge leapt between them, trailing smoke, leaping at Lucifer with a snarl and a mouthful of bared teeth. Lucifer fell back, comical surprise on his face when the hellhound didn’t immediately disintegrate. The protective spells woven into the incorporeal fur activated, outlining the beast in white angelic light and Fenrir’s pagan green. Lucifer let out an inhuman scream as canine teeth sank into his vessel’s leg, dragging him back. “Get him, Juliette!” They heard Crowley whoop. “Take that, you self-righteous prick!”

 

Michael dithered, looking torn between defeating his brother and defending him. But before he could decide, burning vines sprung from the earth, winding around his limbs, trapping him while he yelled, unaffected by the buffeting of his wings and the glow of grace as he tried to burn them off. His archangel blade was yanked out of his fingers, falling to the ground. Lucifer was on the ground as well, a snarl of his own on his lips as he wrestled with the hellhound, his leg in bloody tatters. GabrielSam dragged themselves upright, staggering forwards, incinerated grass crumbling to ash under their feet. Their brothers were both down, it was actually working! They had to get to them now, this was their chance! Juliet wouldn’t last for long.

 

Sure enough, the hexbag hanging from the hellhound’s collar glowed before disintegrating, the fur unwinding from its runes, and it had time for one sad whine before Lucifer’s fingers dug in and ripped the hellhound into shreds of smoke.

 

GabrielSam put on a burst of speed, ignoring the pain in their legs and wings, leaping forwards. They wouldn’t have long. Over the rushing of the blood in their ears, they could hear Rowena chanting, high and fast. Lucifer tried to get up, but manacles of purple magic pinned him down. They closed in, reaching down.

 

Just as they were about to reach out with their grace, a cold hand closed around their left wing. There was a tug and a dizzying whirl, and they were slammed onto their back, their positions reversed as Lucifer snatched up his brothers’ fallen blade. Outside the circle, Fenrir howled, their allies shouting desperately. Frozen eyes blazed with anger above them, their brother’s mouth curled into a savage blood-tinged grin. Memories and fear paralysed them. Not again. “Looks like I have no choice. I’ll finish what I started. Goodbye, brother!”

 

“Heylel! Wait!”

 

_ BANG! BANG! _

 

Lucifer was knocked back, landing on his ass in the dirt, an incredulous look in his face. The blade that he had brandished a second before spun up into the air, flying through the wards and out into the graveyard where the bullet had knocked it out of his grasp. There was an awkward silence, broken only by their panting breaths.

 

For the first time, the archangels’ attention was drawn to something outside the circle, to where the shot had come from. Michael slowly turned his burning gaze on Dean, his voice deadly calm. “Did you just shoot my brother?”

 

Dean looked from Michael to the smoking barrel of the colt and back again. “Uh. No?”

 

Michael roared, his true form peeking through the dimensions, and broke free of the burning vines, jumping forwards, slamming his whole body against the wards. GabrielSam winced as they creaked, hairline cracks developing before Gaia stepped forwards and blew him backwards with a burst of hurricane-force wind. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Lucifer shake himself, grimacing as he dug the bullet out of his chest. Michael leapt forwards again, clawing at the wards, and they heaved themselves up. He couldn’t escape, not now! They were so focused on stopping Michael that they didn’t notice Lucifer approaching them from behind.

 

Gabriel shrieked as their brother caught them by the shoulder again and slammed their vessel against the wards, sparking agony across their wings. They writhed as Lucifer’s hand transferred to their throat, lifting their kicking legs off the ground, gripping until they choked, terror and pain taking over as incorporeal hands dug into their wings, pulling feathers and gripping so hard that the delicate bones ground together. They thrashed, squirming like a fish on a hook. Lucifer was poised over them, and they saw a flash of bright metal, Lucifer’s blade descending.

 

But then, for a split second, Lucifer hesitated. Gabriel saw it. There was a twitch, something buried deep coming up to the surface, those cold blue eyes defrosting just a tiny bit.

 

They forgot about the panic, they forgot about the pain, the familiar hands too-hard on their wings. They reached out, fingers and grace. Their fingertips touched their brother’s cheek. His eyes widened in surprise.

 

They dived in.

 

Their awareness of the outside world fell away as their grace shoved forwards into the frozen one. Lucifer’s mind was… horrible. It was a storm of terrible, violent chaos, fuelled by anger, constantly ripping itself and anything near it apart. His grace shrieked against Gabriel’s as it tried in vain to throw them out.

 

_ The memories _ , the Sam-part reminded him, separating just a little to cover more ground. 

 

Gabriel shook off his horror, delving deeper. Thoughts swirled around him, and only Sam’s bright presence allowed them to remain tethered to their purpose as they dug down through years of darkness to long-buried memories. Where were Lucifer’s memories of heaven? They couldn’t see anything, they couldn’t find them!

 

_ Let me! _ Sam pushed forwards.

 

**_What? Sam, no! It’s too dangerous!_ **

 

_ No it’s not. Lucifer was right,  _ Sam realised ruefully,  _ I was made for him. I understand him. I know where the memories will be.  _

 

Sam took the lead, diving in, and Gabriel followed. If  _ he  _ was in denial, Sam considered, what would he do? If he was lost in that single-minded fervor, where would he put the memories that made him feel guilty and confused? He wouldn’t be able to forget them, wouldn’t be able to push them down that deep. They’d keep eating into his conviction. And that gnawing sense of guilt, of possibly being wrong would make…

 

Anger. He turned, wading back to the front of Lucifer’s mind, where the snarling ball of anger was still raging like a firestorm, consuming everything in its path. There was only one option. Still connected as they were, Gabriel realised what he was about to do a split second before he did it.  **_SAM! NO!_ ** But it was too late. 

 

Fire, and rage, and destruction. A whirlwind of disorienting madness swirling around him. Sam kept going, until- there they were!

 

_ Got them!  _ He burst back out into the main mind-space, brandishing the memories, only to be engulfed by a very worried Gabriel.

 

**_Sam! Thank Dad, what were you thinking!?_ ** But there was no time for reassurance, only action. Gabriel’s grace was already lighting up, piercing the memories back together. Both of them watched as they healed, became whole, and flew back to their proper places with a subtle  _ click _ .

 

The storm died out, cutting the shrieking chaos into shocked quiet. Carefully, Gabriel and Sam merged again, withdrawing from their brother’s thoughts.

 

They opened their eyes. Lucifer was still standing in front of them, but his hand was slack around their throat, no longer pressing them against the wards. His face was blank and shocked, his mouth hanging open. His hand slowly dropped to dangle limply at his side, his wings drooping out of their aggressive pose to slump behind him.

 

“G...Gabriel…”

 

Gabriel opened their mouth to reply, but before they could, Michael screamed. 

 

“Heylel!” 

 

They turned just in time to see a shuddering, opaque shockwave bursting out of him in a ripple of air, battering Lucifer and Gabriel to the ground, knocking the breath out of them.

 

Michael strode over, towering over them as they tried to scramble backwards, gasping for breath. Adam’s face contorted into an expression of righteous wrath, his wings arched high above him and a jagged halo crowning his head in his rage. “My brother!” he bellowed at them, eyes glowing with furious light, “What did you do to my brother! I’ll kill you!! I’ll kill you all!!” He swung his sword overhead, and they caught just a glimpse of the blade descending, a bolt of white light towards their chest. They closed their eyes.  

 

There was a roar and a flurry of movement over their heads. They squinted their eyes open again. Michael was gone. 

 

They rolled back to their knees, wobbling as they looked around, and their mouth fell open at the sight in front of them. 

 

Michael and Lucifer were fighting, brawling on the ground while their wings beat up clouds of dust around them. Lucifer had Michael pinned in a dubious hold, while the older archangel snarled and writhed under him. Lucifer turned to yell at Gabriel, his face contorted with concentration, “Quick! I can’t hold him long!”

 

They leapt forwards, reaching out, pressing fingers against Michael’s forehead as he snarled. They dived into his mind. There was no time for sightseeing, just a rush of memories-  _ there _ !- Gabriel drove forwards, his grace shattered the illusion, and then- 

 

It was done.

 

They fell back, panting and coughing. Michael slumped to the ground with Lucifer still on top of him. They closed their eyes, one hand over their chest, feeling their heart still beating fast and frantic, and tried to calm their breathing.

 

“Gabriel?” Michael asked, voice slurred. Then, surer, astonished joy starting to fill the words, “Gabriel!”

 

He lunged, and for half a second they felt a flicker of fear that he was attacking again, but then arms were wrapping around them and a joyful voice was shouting in their ear, “Brother, you freed us!” Grace reached out and met grace, tangling them up together, insubstantial wings wrapping around to greet each other for the first time in centuries. “Oh little brother, we missed you. We missed you so much.”

 

Lucifer joined them, his grace and great wings wrapping around them, just like they had so long ago. Gabriel sobbed out a laugh, almost overwhelmed after so long. Lucifer’s face was still pale and shocked when he buried it in the shoulder of Sam’s flannel. “Naomi… Zachariah…” There was no anger in his words, not yet. Just sorrow and confusion. The betrayal was unthinkable for the angels. It was too much. 

 

Gabriel cleared their throat. “They’re gone, both of them.”

 

“Gabe? Sammy? You okay in there? What’s going on? Talk to me, goddammit!”

 

Michael looked up from their pile, and Lucifer followed his gaze. The rest of their team were watching them intently, restlessly. Dean in particular looked as though it was only Cas’ hand on his arm that was keeping him from springing forwards. Kali’s eyes were narrowed, her arms folded as she watched them from the back of the group.

 

“We’re good!” GabrielSam called back, waving. “It’s over! We did it! They’re not going to fight. You can take down the wards!”

 

Bobby’s grip on his shotgun didn’t waver. “You sure about that, boy?”

 

“We have no desire to harm you or the earth,” Michael spoke up.

 

The Sam-part came forwards, eyes meeting with Dean’s to perform that strange not-telepathy that the brothers had. “Yeah, we’re sure.”

 

Dean nodded. “You heard him, let them out!”

 

After a pause, Fenrir scrambled to disable the wards, his tail a whirlwind of wagging, Rowena following behind him at a more moderate pace. There was a sweet puff of air as the dome dissipated in a small burst of magic, the bubble popping, the smell of burnt earth dissipating and their awareness of the outside world coming back. GabrielSam sighed in relief as their exhausted grace expanded once again. The other archangels stretched as well, wings trembling as they reached skywards before folding in again. 

 

They closed their eyes, tipping their face back to let the sun’s rays warm it, blinking away their tears of relief, their heart glowing in their chest as their brothers’ graces curled around them. It was over. They had done it.

 

.o0o.

 

Walt could finally admit to himself that he might be in over his head.

 

He had finally managed to shake that pesky lady sheriff. It had taken him longer than he was going to admit to his hunter buddies later when they asked him to recount his heroic story. Being muscled away from the fight by a civilian, and a lady civilian who only came up to his shoulder on top of that? Embarrassing. 

 

It might have been dirty, but all it had taken was one quick knock to the back of her head while she was turned towards a particularly loud noise from the ritual site behind them, and she’d gone down like a sack of rocks. He’d left her cuffed to her own patrol car and worked his way back, following the flashes of unnatural light and subsonic booms, muttering pep talks to himself. But by the time he got close, the battle was in full swing and he was feeling a lot less confident. The apocalypse was one thing, but watching these…  _ beings  _ fight it out in front of him? A man had to wonder if he had brought a knife to a gun fight.

 

Wasn't that what hunters did though? Protected the world from those unholy things that lurked in the dark, no matter the personal cost, those evil bastards daring to call themselves angels included. And the abomination that used to be Sam Winchester. 

 

He dry swallowed a few times, his eyes fixed on the figures from where he was peering out from behind a tombstone. He wasn't quite near enough to hear what they were saying, but that didn't really matter. They all deserved to die anyway. They were monsters. He was trying to work up the courage to go and step into the fight, but the survival instinct rooted deep into his brain was strong.

 

Walt scowled to himself. If only he had a decent weapon. Guns didn't work on these things, even magical ones; his last confrontation with Winchester had proven that. 

 

He happened to glance sideways, and a gleam caught his eye. 

 

There it was. Embedded point-down in the ground where it had landed, like a sign from God. 

 

He glanced quickly to make sure none of the figures were looking. The cacophony seemed to have died down. He squinted at them. What were they even doing over there? If he hadn’t known better he would have thought they were embracing like long-lost siblings. But that didn’t matter. They were monsters. Monsters didn’t have families.

 

He crawled out from his hiding place, grabbed his prize and scrambled back. He huddled back behind the tomb, waiting for the beating of his heart to slow before inspecting it. He ran one finger up the long, straight, gleaming blade, the silver-white metal shimmering as it caught the light. Not a speck of dirt clung to it. Walt smiled as he inspected its needle-sharp tip, the drop of blood dripping from his finger where the edge had nicked his skin without him even feeling it.

 

Perfect. 

 

He took another deep breath. This was it.

 

Slowly, he started to creep towards the fight.

 

**.** o0o **.**

 

“No hard feelings about the your true vessel?” Gabriel asked Lucifer as Gaia helped him heal a nasty gash on Sam’s side.

 

Lucifer shook his head, watching intently as the goddess’ capable hands prodded at the wound. “Sam would have never chosen to host me anyway, not without coercion. If anything, I’m just glad you were there to prevent me from trying that. It would have been… a horrifying breach of consent, and… I’m not sure I would have been able to come back from that. I think that would have been the end to what little sanity I had left.” Lucifer shuddered, and then met their eyes. “Is he there?”

 

They smiled. “We both are,” they replied, letting Lucifer see the tangle of soul and grace inside.

 

Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t comment. “That’s an… unusual arrangement. In that case, Sam, I apologise for trying to possess you. I was wrong, even if I wasn’t in my right mind.”

 

GabrielSam smiled sadly. “Thanks. Thank you, Gaia,” they sighed in relief as the goddess healed the gash closed. 

 

Then they looked up. “So… what now?” They asked. Behind them, they felt Gaia pause. Fenrir tensed almost imperceptibly, moving forwards to plant his menacing furry bulk next to them. GabrielSam dug a comforting hand into his fur.

 

Michael and Lucifer glanced at each other, having a whole discussion with their eyes. Michael sighed, turning back to the rest of them. “We still have to go.”

 

“But why!? I only just got you back!”

 

It was Lucifer who spoke up. “We are… not as we were. At first, it might have been the brainwashing, but… I spent so long believing those thoughts were mine. That those ideas were mine. I think I might have started believing them, just a little.” He looked sideways at Michael. “I think it might be better for everyone if we went away for a while. Until we can be certain about what is real. And about which of our opinions are our own and which were planted there.”

 

Michael nodded. “Agreed. And anyway, even if we weren’t fully in control while we did them, our actions have still had consequences. People died, our siblings suffered, and that’s still our fault. If it weren’t for you all, our actions could have been devastating. We could have destroyed all of this!” He pursed his lips, blinking hard for a second, wings twitching in his distress before closing his eyes to pull himself together. “We’ll come back if you need us, and we’ll heal Raph and leave instructions so that heaven will run while we’re gone. Oh, and I suppose Heylel had better unbind Death before we depart. But...”

 

They were leaving. Already. So soon. And they’d just got them back! A deep ache grew in their chest at the thought of their brothers being gone yet again. A tear trickled down their cheek.

 

Lucifer half smiled, reaching forwards to wipe it away. “Don’t cry, little brother. We’ll be back in a few centuries, you’ll barely notice we’re gone.”

 

Gabriel took a deep, shuddery breath and let it out again slowly. “I understand.” Sam coiled inside him, offering comfort. Gabriel embraced him back.  **_This is for the best. I’ll see them again some day. They’ll be back. And my home is safe. The Earth is safe._ ** He smiled, blinking through the tears of sadness and relief.  **_We won, Sam. We actually won!_ **

 

_ We won,  _ Sam agreed, his elation still disbelieving but no less real.

 

“Take care, brother.” Lucifer’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and Gabriel smiled back, bittersweet. “You’ll always be able to find us.” Behind him, Michael was speaking quietly with Castiel. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but Michael’s hand was on his shoulder, and Gabriel hadn’t heard Castiel’s grace sing like that since they were all still in heaven.  

 

He smiled at Lucifer, more genuine this time. “You know what? I think we’re gonna be alright.”

 

Lucifer laughed. Then he looked up, over their shoulder, and his face creased into confusion.

 

Gabriel's awareness pinged and they snapped their head around. To their incredulous disbelief they saw Walt running towards them.  _ Really? He’s still trying? _

 

**_He can’t hurt us, let him try._ **

 

They sighed and turned to face him, opening their mouth to speak. They didn’t really want to kill him, they were so tired of death. Maybe they could persuade Walt to give up his pointless quest; after all, they had just solved an eons-old feud between archangels, how hard could it be to sort out a human misunderstanding? 

 

They saw the flash of metal a half-second too late. They didn’t even think to stop it. 

  
  


The blade went right through their gut. 

  
  


The pain was instantaneous and shocking. They gaped down at the handle embedded just below their ribs.  **_Archangel blade,_ ** Gabriel realised in numb horror.  **_How!?_ **

 

But how didn’t matter. Walt died before he had even let go of the blade, disintegrating to dust under the combined rage of not one but two archangels. They barely even felt it as the stained soul in front of them winked out of existence, staring down in disbelief at the wound. Time seemed to stagger, stutter with the irregular thumping of their heart.  Blood was starting to seep out they noted in a daze, staining the front of their shirt crimson, leaking out to slick their fingers. Gabriel’s grace was haemorrhaging out of him as fast as Sam’s blood was. Only this time there was no miraculous escape, no alternative vessel ready to take him and heal him. 

 

“No!” Lucifer’s horrified face, Michael’s, Dean’s all jostled for place in their field of vision, but it was getting smaller, fading as darkness crept in from the sides. “Sam!” They heard Dean yell, but it was too late, far too late. Sam felt the thin scar on Gabriel's grace split open again, the liquid heat bubbling up through his lungs, flickering light and shadows. They staggered, suddenly dizzy, and then they were on the ground, the world spinning around them, hands grasping and pulling at their arms. They choked at the shift of the blade against their insides, grasped the handle with trembling hands. 

 

Panic rose as Gabriel’s grace rushed out, trying to dam the wound, but it was too much, not enough.  _ Take mine, Gabriel! _ Sam lent his own strength, pouring his soul out into his grace, but that just made the energy escape faster. They both knew it was futile. There was no healing the wounds from an archangel blade. Gabriel stopped, panting.  **_Don’t, I can’t heal it, I can’t…_ ** Suddenly he cut off, surging forwards with uncoordinated purpose. Pulling away from Sam’s soul.

 

Sam was confused for a second, but then he had a moment of horrified realisation. Gabriel was trying to leave!  _ NO! DON’T YOU DARE!  _ Sam bellowed, launching himself after him, latching on. Gabriel struggled in his grip, losing strength every second. 

 

**_It’s my damaged grace that’s killing you, if you let me go they can heal you! It’s too late for me!! You’ll die, you stupid human, I won’t let you die with me! They won’t be able to bring you back!_ **

 

_ And if you leave, your grace would explode right away, yeah? Killing me and all our friends? Your brothers? I’m already dead. I’m not letting them die too. _

 

Gabriel’s entire being quivered as he realised that Sam was right, and then he broke. Sobbed.  **_I'm sorry Sam, I can’t heal you. Can’t heal myself. So sorry…_ **

 

_ It’s okay, Gabriel. _ Sam wrapped himself around Gabriel's grace. Gabriel clung to him, like a fist clutched in a shirt. Everything was going dark, now. Their fingers were going cold.

 

**_I don't want to die,_ ** Gabriel whispered, small and so terribly afraid. 

 

Sam was strangely calm. He’d anticipated this. Known it was coming for years. Hunters didn’t get kind deaths. All that was left was a deep sadness that he hadn’t been able to save Gabriel from being taken down with him. He twined them closer, until he couldn’t tell where where he ended and Gabriel began.  _ Together _ , he whispered. Gabriel clung tighter.

 

The light grew and grew and grew; splintered, fractured into razor shards; the energy coiled hotter, tighter.  _ Like watching the sun implode _ , Sam thought to himself. For half a second, he and Gabriel hung there, entwined, suspended, looking into the heart of the dying star.

  
  


There was a moment of nuclear white-out. 

  
  
  


And they were gone. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! That's it lads, goodnight!
> 
> (I'm kidding I'm so sorry)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clears my throat* I'm sorry that I'm not sorry for what I did to everyone last chapter. There! I said it!

 

 

For an infinite moment, there was Nothing.

 

 

No light. No dark. No time. Not even thought or awareness or emotion. Just a great, yawning void. 

 

So the first thing Sam felt when he could feel again was absolute mortal terror. There was no air, no lungs he could use to scream, and nowhere to go, but he tried anyway. He must have been moving even if he couldn’t feel it, because he suddenly because aware of the enormous being holding him when it dropped him with a vast, irritated grumble. 

 

Sam froze. Like a rabbit in the headlights.

 

Whatever it was though, it didn’t seem to want to hurt him. He couldn't truly see it- or maybe he could, and his very being was shying away from it out of self-preservation. But however beautiful or horrifying or overwhelmingly awesome it was, it didn't feel malicious. It gingerly picked him up again, like he was a frog that had hopped out of its hands, and set off again. If Sam paid attention he could feel them travelling this time, the universe rushing past as though he was on a bullet train and hadn’t realised the speed he was going until he looked out of the window. 

 

Finally it slowed, pulling to a stop. Sam looked upwards without eyes, gaped at the sight. It was a little like a curtain, in that it rippled, silky and lustrous. That was where the metaphor ended though. It was unimaginable huge, filling the world in front of him, as though the aurora had been pulled from the sky and was almost close enough to touch. And beyond the curtain, there were things, places, moving and shifting. Alive. Vibrant. A pit of yearning opened up inside of him. If only he could reach out and touch it, touch them…

 

The great Being pulled him back. It pressed a series of impressions into him. Rueful, resentful apology. A sense of debt repaid. Then it pushed him forwards, towards the curtain. The yearning rose in him again, and he hesitantly moved forwards...

 

But no, wait, this wasn’t right. Sam felt a flicker of uncertainty. There was someone else, there should be someone else here-

 

Before he could object, the being gave him an impatient shove, right into the curtain. And there was vivid light permeating every strand of his being, and, and, and... 

 

He was somewhere else.

 

...

 

Sam dragged in a deep, painful breath, and immediately choked. The coughing fit was violent, his whole body convulsing and curling up, muscles all twinging as though he’d gone ten rounds with Gunner Lawless.

 

He groaned, slumping back.  He opened his eyes to see Dean gaping at him with reddened, swollen eyes, his cheeks blotchy and stained with tears. Behind him, Castiel was watching with wide-eyed shock, all their allies staring in surprise.

 

“Sammy,” Dean choked. Sam was still bewildered as Dean pulled him back into his lap, gripping him desperately, as though he was worried that if he let go Sam’s soul would scatter back out of his body. 

 

Sam pushed clumsily at him and drew back, running his fingers over his stomach under the rip in his shirt. No holes, no blood, no flaps of sliced flesh, just smooth skin. No, not quite smooth. He tugged the shirt up and both he and Dean drew in a sharp breath at the massive star-shaped scar covering most of his abdomen. Veins of darkness ran through the silvery new tissue, threading out from the centre where it concentrated into one dark spot where the blade had pierced him. Sam swallowed.  _ Gabriel? _ He asked. No reply, just a dark, vacant emptiness from where Gabriel had been. That was alright, even if he was a little disappointed; God must have brought back Gabe separately, he was probably trying to find a vessel and get back to him as he spoke.

 

“Sammy. What happened?” Dean asked. His voice was hushed, his eyes wondering as they darted down his body, as though he still couldn’t believe that Sam was there.

 

“I think… I think it was God…”

 

“It was,” Michael confirmed, observing him closely. “Father returned. Very briefly.”

 

“I’m not sure if he…” Sam trailed off. How did he tell archangels that their own father didn't want to be found by them? He looked around. Gabe should have been here by now. What was keeping him? “Where’s Gabriel?” 

 

Dean paused. Lucifer turned away, hiding his face, and Michael rested a hand on his shoulder. Dean spared them a quick, concerned glance before speaking to Sam with uncharacteristic gentleness. “He… he hasn't come back, Sammy.”

 

Sam threw Dean a look of disbelief. “Of course he’s coming back! God resurrected me, didn't he?”

 

Dean shook his head. “They can’t sense him. Sammy, he’s gone.”

 

“But…” Sam’s voice trailed off. He was just confused. It didn’t make any sense. Gabriel was coming back, right? Why would God decide to resurrect Sam, but not His own son? He turned to ask the other archangels. Maybe they would have some idea of where Gabriel was, because he couldn’t be gone. It didn’t make sense. But there was the sound of beating wings, and by the time he had turned the two were gone. Sam stared blankly at the place they had been.

 

Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye.  _ Don’t look _ , something inside him whispered in dread. But he couldn’t stop himself.

 

He turned, looked down. 

 

Ice formed in the pit of Sam’s stomach. His heart stopped.

 

Great sooty wings spread out, the imprints of familiar feathers splayed across the baked dirt. His fingers twitched instinctively towards them, because he knew them- knew how they should spread out from his back, knew how they should catch the air, they shouldn't ever be pinned down to the earth in carbonated ash.

 

No. No it couldn’t be… he couldn’t have...

 

“Damn vanishing archangels,” Dean muttered, “Come on, we need to get out of here.” 

 

Dean pulled him back to his feet, and he stumbled, legs limp, but Bobby was there to catch him. Rough stubble scraped against his neck as he was gathered into a hug. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear me, boy?”

 

Sam just grasped at Bobby’s jacket, staring blankly over his shoulder. Kali was gone already, as was Crowley. The rest of them, though, looked similar to Sam felt; just standing there blinking in shock. Hollowed out. How could this be it? How could this be the way it ended?

 

Bobby pushed him back, gripping his arms to look up into his face. His gaze, ever astute, softened at whatever he saw there. “Let’s get you home.”

 

Sam didn’t remember much of the journey back to Bobby’s house. He shovelled down the food Bobby put in front of him mechanically, barely registering that he could taste properly again. He didn’t want to be able to taste. He wanted that snarky voice back, the laughter and the in-jokes, the hole in his head and his heart filled. He kept expecting to hear him in the back of his brain, commenting on Bobby’s food. 

 

“No, Dean ya idjit, I’ll get him to bed, you worry about yourself. And see if you can convince Cas to dress that wound, I don’t like the look of it.”

 

Rough, gentle hands guided him up the stairs, into the spare bedroom. Concerned eyes gazed down at him. “Can you manage from here, or do I have to undress your overgrown ass as well?”

 

Sam pretended to huff a laugh, dragging his eyes up to meet his. “I can manage, Bobby. Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it, boy. Now get some rest.”

 

Sam waited, listening as the heavy footsteps thumped down the stairs. He didn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to get up and undress. It was starting to sink in. Gabriel was gone. Really gone this time. He wasn’t going to pop back up with that infuriating smirk up and a  _ miss me? _

 

He was dead. It still didn't seem real. 

 

It should have been him, Sam thought. It should have been Gabriel alive, walking and talking, and Sam would trade in a heartbeat. And the worst part? Was knowing the reason that God hadn’t brought him back. It wasn’t because he couldn’t; it was because he didn’t care. Because it was too much effort. Because as far as Chuck was concerned, he had repaid his debt to Sam for the damage done by the apocalypse (as if he ever could). As far as He was concerned, the archangels had done what He’d made them to do, so if they died it was no great loss. As if they weren’t sentient! As if they didn’t have emotions, memories,  _ lives _ ! As if they wouldn’t be missed.

 

Clasping his hands in front of himself, Sam screwed his eyes shut. “You listen to me, you bastard.” Sam could feel his arms shaking, all that pent up rage and grief barely kept in check. “You resurrect him, you hear me? I don’t care how much effort it takes! You bring him back! You send him back… send him back to me or I’ll… I’ll…” he lost control of the tears trickling down his cheeks, of the way his voice broke and cracked into painful shards. A sob cut itself out of his chest and he covered his eyes with a hand, scrubbing it down over his mouth. 

 

Why? Why had He brought Sam back but not Gabriel? There was no justice in the world, not with Gabriel dead, and this was proof of it.

 

**.** o0o.

 

 

Sam dreamed. He was in the middle of the cathedral, his footsteps echoing as he paced down the centre aisle. Dust motes orbited undisturbed in the dim beams falling from the windows. He sat in the front row, looking up at the stained glass, waiting for something. For someone. 

 

But nobody came. He was alone.

 

 

.o0o.

 

A day went by. Two. A week. Sam and Dean remained at Bobby’s, lingering in the scrap yard when before they would have been long gone. Sam knew why they were staying. Dean was worried about him. 

 

Sam could see why. Life seemed pretty exhausting these days. Just getting out of bed was an almost insurmountable effort. He couldn't help it- he kept looking around, expecting to see Gabriel walk around the corner with a smartass comment about how you could never keep a trickster down. 

 

He kept noticing other things as well. Maybe the possession had made him sensitive to energies- there was too much empty space echoing around inside his skull. He could swear that he could still hear Dean’s thoughts, could feel the worry coming off him in a smothering wave as he heaped a second helping onto Sam’s plate. 

 

Dean’s fretting was equally annoying and comforting. It might have been irritating when Dean came and pestered him to get out of bed, to eat, to go outside and get some fresh air, but at the same time Sam knew deep down that it was Dean making him do these things that was keeping his head above water. It would have been so easy to just go under, let go of his denial and let his grief eat him, but he couldn’t do that. Dean helped to remind him why. Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted that for him.

 

Their allies started to depart, one by one. Rowena took her leave the day after the battle with an apologetic grimace, clutching her book of spells to her chest. “You boys can manage yourselves from here, can’t you?” 

 

Sam saw Balthazar in quiet conversation in the yard with Cas before the sound of wings echoed across the lot, and even before the dust cleared Sam knew he was gone too. 

 

Gaia didn’t go, maybe because she had little to return to. Sam had a feeling that she’d taken a shine to Bobby. He caught him gruffly talking her through how to use a mobile phone, the cell looking flimsy in her large hands as he jabbed at the screen to demonstrate. He’d managed to persuade her to put on pants. The shoes and shirt, though, he’d had less luck with.

 

Sam kept walking into the living room, where research books were spread out over the table. He’d barely slept the past few days, determined to find an answer, but deep down he knew he wouldn’t find one. Not here. Bobby kept bringing him books, but Sam could see in his eyes that he was taking pity on him, letting him see for himself that there was no way to bring Gabriel back.

 

Sam caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. The last remaining member of their party loped into the room, glancing up at him briefly before walking over to him. Fenrir slumped down on his feet with a long puff of air. He hadn’t transformed once since they had come back from the graveyard, spending a lot of time lying next to Sam, staring blankly at the wall. 

 

Sam sighed and dug his fingers into the thick scruff. “I know. I miss him too.”

 

.o0o.

 

Sam dreamed. He was back in the cathedral. He dragged his finger along the back of the nearest pew, feeling his heart sink when his finger came back with a thin grey coating of dust. He looked up at the dimming light coming through the stained glass and sighed. Without Gabriel, this place was fading faster each day.

 

He walked up the aisle, past the pulpit and the ornately carved arches and into the quire, curling up on the seats where the choir would have sat. He brought his legs up, pulling them against his chest as he stared morosely at the opposite bank of benches. His gaze drifted to the enormous tubes of the church organ soaring up towards the ceiling.  _ Gabriel would have loved playing the organ _ , he thought to himself. He would have loved the discordant, deafening booming, would have laughed at the way the sound echoed off the pillars. He could almost see Gabriel in front of him, a ghost of his smirk as he cracked every organ-based innuendo in the English language. He smiled sadly.

 

“Well, this is different from where we used to meet.”

 

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around.

 

Lucifer was standing in the middle of the aisle, out of place, looking around at the intricate carvings overhead. The burns on the face and neck of his familiar vessel were gone, the open blisters healed. Sam bristled, opened his mouth to tell him to  _ get out _ , because this was his and Gabriel’s place, all Sam had left of him, what right did he have to come in here, but Lucifer held up a hand, still focused on the pillars ascending to the invisible ceiling.

 

“Please, hear me out. I know you’re probably not in the mood to talk to me at the minute, but I swear it’s relevant.” 

 

Sam dropped his chin back onto his knees with a sigh. He didn’t have the energy to fight. “Why are you here.”

 

“I’m getting to that.” Lucifer dropped his eyes to look at him closely. “I’m sorry now it took me so long to return. I can see you’ve been grieving. But I needed to find something, and I didn’t know if I would be successful or not, so I thought I’d wait until I’d found it to tell you.” 

 

Slowly, Sam raised his eyes. Lucifer walked towards him, the sound of his steps wrong against the floor. “Sam, do you remember how you and Gabriel met?”

 

Sam snorted halfheartedly. “How could I forget?”

 

Lucifer smiled, his eyes going misted with memories. “Yes, that was what was commonly said about Gabriel. But anyway, do you remember why you knew he wasn’t dead when you left Crawford Hall?”

 

“The bed?” Sam asked. He remembered being confused about the bed in the lecture theatre when the rest had vanished, then as they were pulling away the realisation had struck. But it was too late; the school had already been in the rear view mirror, and Sam had thought it wasn’t worth going back. He’d never been keen on killing the trickster anyway, so if he had escaped, he wasn’t going to tell Dean.

 

Lucifer nodded, “Yes, the bed.”

 

Suddenly, a thought hit. Sam narrowed his eyes. “Hold on, how do you know all this? You weren’t there for any of that.”

 

Lucifer looked a little sheepish. “I might have gone through your memories when I was trying to convince you to let me possess you.”

 

Any other time, anywhere else, Sam might have put up more of a fight at the admission, but it was done. He was tired. Lucifer was, hopefully, turning over a fresh leaf. He settled for a poisonous glare. “If you ever do that again I’ll summon you and fry you in holy oil.”

 

Lucifer nodded. “Understood.”

 

There was a few minutes of awkward silence before Lucifer cleared his throat. “Did you know, Sam, that when an angel inhabits a vessel, they always leave traces of grace behind? Even if we’re trying not to leave a mark, we always leave something of ourselves behind. And you and my little brother certainly… left some marks on each other.” Lucifer grimaced delicately and Sam scowled at him. “What I’m trying to say here, Sam, is that this cathedral is the equivalent of that bed.”

 

Sam sat bolt upright. “What!? You mean he’s still alive?” Hope and disbelief mingled. He desperately wanted to believe, was terrified of being disappointed.

 

“Not exactly. Angels don’t go to heaven when we die. We go somewhere else. But this cathedral is evidence that some part of him, however small, remains on this plane. It lives within you. I believe that I can access it, and if we can isolate it, then we might, _might_ have a chance at retrieving him. I cannot promise, but we can try.” He reached forwards, then seemed to think better and hesitated. “May I?”

 

It went against everything within him, but Sam nodded. For Gabriel. 

 

Lucifer reached forwards, his fingertips touching, no, going  _ right through _ his chest. Sam gasped, but there was no pain, not like he felt there should have been. He felt a gentle tug, somewhere deep inside himself, something being pulled away from the rest.  _ No! _ He felt the urge to hang on, but he made himself let go. This was Gabriel’s only chance.

 

Lucifer pulled away, his fist now clenched around something, tendrils of liquid light questing out between his fingers, all searching back towards Sam like something alive. Sam stared, wonder overcoming the new empty ache in his chest. He wanted to reach back. 

 

Lucifer closed his eyes, a crease of concentration forming between them. The light grew, pulsing out around his fist, shining like a captured sun. There was a deep thrum that rippled through the very world, the floor vibrating under Sam’s feet. The light around the cathedral flared, all the windows going midday-bright for one split second before shooting down to join the energy vortexing around them, surrounding them in a shell of light, closing in. Lucifer reached forwards, pulling Sam’s arm forwards with his free hand and placing the light in his palm, folding his fingers over it. The thrum rose, the pitch changing to a throbbing ringing. Sam stared at the light, the piece of grace he realised, wide-eyed. It didn’t burn. It was just… warm. Like he had been. 

 

As though that was a signal they had been waiting for, the waiting lights shot down, converging on Sam’s fist. For half a second, Sam could see every bone and blood vessel in his hand illuminated from the inside, he was sure he was going to go blind, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away, it would be worth it-

 

The light died as fast as it had come, leaving the cathedral even dimmer than it had been before. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam thought he could see the pillars starting to dissolve, everything falling into darkness, but he was focused on his fist. Lucifer leaned in. Both of them peered down, holding their breath. Sam swallowed. One by one, he peeled back his fingers.

 

There, sitting on his palm, was a golden kazoo.

 

Sam started laughing. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop. His helpless hysteria echoed off the walls back to him. 

 

A kazoo. A fucking kazoo. It was just so  _ Gabriel _ . He curled his fingers ever so carefully back around the metal, cradling it in his palm, feeling the warmth of it against his skin, against his soul. He wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. “It’s really him!”

 

“It is.” For the first time since he’d appeared, Lucifer smiled. Behind him, the altar disappeared into the mist. “I think our time’s up. Good luck, Sam. I've given you everything you'll need, hopefully, but I'm afraid I can't help you anymore from here. Only you can save him.”

 

A bolt of panic shot through him. “Wait!” Sam shouted. “I don't know what I'm doing! What do I do?” But the creeping darkness overtook him, and the cathedral dissolved into nothing.

 

...

 

Sam sat bolt upright with a gasp. 

 

The bedroom was still dark around him, the morning light only just starting to creep in through the curtains. His heart was still pounding against his ribs. It had felt so real. He punched the sheets, cold, bitter disappointment making him feel sick. Damn it. He still had no idea how to get Gabriel back. For all he knew it had just been a particularly vivid dream brought on by too many late nights and a hopeful subconscious. 

 

He glanced over at the other side of the bed and did a double take.

 

There was a book resting on the blanket, a heavy, ancient looking hardback. On top of it, the kazoo gleamed golden, even in the meagre light. He came closer, hardly daring to believe. As though if he got too close they might evaporate. But no, they were real. He ran trembling fingers along the leather binding of the book, the enochian sigils embossed into it and highlighted in gold leaf. He picked up the kazoo and held it up to get a better look at it. The metal was still warm.

 

For the first time since he had woken in that graveyard, Sam felt a spark of real hope. “Alright,” he murmured to the instrument in his palm, “let’s do this.”

 

...

 

Dean, predictably, took some convincing.

 

“So, you’re saying that the devil came to you in a dream, told you that Gabriel’s dead but you can get him back, then gave you a magic kazoo.” His eyebrows had risen so high that they were nearly disappearing into his hair.

 

“I know what it sounds like, but look,” Sam spread the book out on the table, turning the fragile pages carefully. “This is all about angels! There are spells, and, and rituals, it could be in here, Dean! And anyway, Lucifer’s dreamwalked with me before, so it’s not like it’s the first time.”

 

Dean looked at him like he was analysing just how much of Sam’s confidence was desperation. He seemed to come to a decision. He turned and bellowed up the stairs. “CAS!”

 

Cas read the book cover to cover, pages of beautiful translations flowing onto paper. 

 

“Here.” He pointed down at a passage. Sam was leaning over his shoulder in an instant, eyes scanning the incomprehensible letters. “This part pertains to a ritual. Recalling that which has been lost… It calls specifically for grace and deeply personal objects, both of which we have…”

 

Sam was nearly vibrating with his eagerness. “Is this it, Cas?  Is it enough to bring him back?”

 

Cas looked thoughtful. “On it’s own it wouldn’t be strong enough. Archangels are… bulky, in a metaphorical sort of way. It takes vast amounts of power to even summon one from across the globe, let alone from beyond the dead. But if we combined this ritual with some of the others in this book… maybe a pagan ritual as well, since Loki’s magic was a part of him… then that might be enough.” He held up a hand when Sam lit up. “It  _ might  _ work, Sam. I can make no promises. Nothing like this has ever been attempted before.”

 

“But we can try, right?” Sam beseeched.

 

Cas smiled sadly at him. “Yes, we can certainly try.”

 

“You hear that, Dean? We’ve found a way to get him back! We’re doing it!”

 

.o0o.

 

Sam had always been a natural with spellwork. It wasn’t anything John had ever encouraged, unsurprisingly, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t useful. He had always been in charge of any summonings or spells, and he had considered making protective hex bags for himself and Dean before Ruby happened and any faith his brother had had in his natural magical abilities had shattered. The possession seemed to have only increased the talent that was there. He could almost feel the magic now, see the shapes it would form. It was simple to see what the outcome of a spell would be.

 

Which was why there was a problem. Because he had read the books that Lucifer had given him cover to cover, three times, and there was no way that any of the spells they had been researching would be powerful enough to bring Gabriel back.    
  


When he had reached the end of the book the third time, and worked past his denial, he had nearly given up. But they had come so far. He refused to give up now. Which meant he had to explore… alternative options. He remembered what Cas had said about combining the angelic magic with a pagan spell. None of the regular spellbooks that he’d read had anything remotely powerful enough, so he had pulled some of Bobby’s rarer, darker spellbooks down, waiting until everyone else was asleep to read them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the others knowing, he reasoned with himself. It was just that it was easier to concentrate alone at three am. 

 

He turned another page, and stopped. 

 

The black and white woodcut illustrations were graphic. Violently so. Sam followed down the lines of text, feeling his eyebrows rise with every paragraph. None of the spells in the book before this one had included human sacrifice, and he was about to immediately discard it, but… he paused. It was a powerful spell. Very powerful. 

 

Was he really considering this? He was, he realised with some surprise.

 

There was no denying that it was a horrible spell.  _ Dark magic _ , a small tucked-away part of his mind warned him, but he ignored it. It would be worth it. It would be worth it if it brought him back.

 

“What have you got there, Samuel?” A deep voice spoke from just behind his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts.

 

Sam jumped up like he’d been electrocuted, picking up the book before anyone could see what was on the pages and turning, but he was too late. Gaia was looming behind him, and her nostrils flared, dark eyes fixed on the book. “That is not a book of pleasant magic, and that was no benign ritual you were looking up. What are you plotting, Sam?”

 

Sam shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, weighing up lying to her about it, but it wasn’t worth it, and he knew that it wouldn’t work. Gaia was too perceptive. “Look. I know that we managed to find a spell to bring an angel back. But…”

“It’s not going to be enough.”

 

He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s powerful enough, even with the additional Norse spells. Maybe if he was an ordinary seraph, but...”

 

“He is not. And you are right.” She looked over the spell, sharp eyes scrolling down the ingredients list and nodding. “It will take more than this to bring one of the Burning Ones back, and by the end Gabriel was far more than he started out as. He will not be easy to resurrect. But this is not the right path.”

 

“But-”

 

She tossed her head and snorted loudly, her voice sharpening, and Sam was abruptly reminded that she could gut him with her horns in a second if she wanted to. “Gabriel would not appreciate being forced to absorb your life force while being brought back to life.” She held up a hand, stalling his objections. “It would be a violation of the worst kind. I saw the love he held in his being for you before he was lost. Having your blood on his hands would destroy him. How would you feel?” Her eyes softened, going liquid again, the magic that had been in the air loosening its grip. “I know what he means to you, but destroying your soul is unnecessary. Remember, Sam, you have allies. Use them.”

 

She was right. 

 

Sam looked at her, then down at the kazoo sitting innocuously on the table. How easy would it be, now, to let this consume him? To do something unforgivable he could never come back from? For half a second he was afraid of himself- afraid of his own potential. He had nearly walked blindly into the same self-sacrificing mistake that had made their dad give his life for Dean, that had made Dean go to hell for Sam, that Gabriel had spent a whole painful year trying to warn him against. It was the same mistake that had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place, and he hadn’t even seen it until he was standing at the edge, ready to pitch himself off into another bad decision. He clenched his jaw, looking down at the dark spell he had been considering, and put it down. He closed the book with a sigh. Not this time.

 

“You’re right.”

 

Gaia nodded, looking satisfied. “Don’t worry so much, Sam. I will help you get back your lover and my friend.”

 

Sam felt his face twist. “He… we weren’t-”

 

She snorted at him again, loud and startling. “Please. You thought I could not tell? I saw your face when you were together. I have seen newlyweds who were less besotted.” She stood again, shaking her head, walking to the door before turning back and fixing him with a demanding stare. “Go. Eat, sleep. I’ve been watching over humans for longer than your civilisation has existed, boy. I know what you are doing to yourself. Don’t make me tell your brother.”

 

Sam stood as well, grimacing at the ache in his joints. Maybe food and sleep wasn’t such a bad idea. Hopefully tomorrow things would be a little clearer.

 

.o0o.

 

Dean watched, hidden in the darkened kitchen, as Sam slowly walked up the stairs, finally abandoning his books and heading for bed. He’d heard the muffled voices, and he was glad that Gaia had managed to talk some sense into him. Dean was just a little bitter that it couldn’t be him. Sam wouldn’t take him seriously if he went to him. Dean would just be the Interfering Big Brother, once again criticising Sam’s life choices and fussing over him. That didn’t stop Dean from wanting to look out for him. 

 

“Dean.” 

 

A deep voice broke him out of his reverie. Dean looked up. Cas was standing behind him, a frown on his face. If it had been six months ago, Dean might have thought that he was disapproving, or even angry, but he’d become good enough at reading Cas’ micro expressions that he could see the concern creasing the corners of his eyes. “Dean, what are you doing up? You should be sleeping.”

 

Dean turned back to his vigil, taking another sip of his beer. “I’m fine, Cas.”

 

Cas came around to stand in front of him, gaze searching. Dean reluctantly looked up. “No you’re not. You’re exhausted.”

 

Dean scowled up at him, drawing back. “I said I’m fine. You gonna let me have my beer in peace, or what?”

 

Cas ignored him, his head tilting, blue eyes seeing too much as always. “You’re worried. About your brother.”

 

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it. He felt his shoulders slump. There was no point denying it, not to Cas. “Yeah. Yeah I am.” He admitted quietly. “I’m just worried about him, I just... what if it doesn’t work? What if it fails, and we can’t bring Gabe back, and...” He trailed off, lost in thought. Bringing a hand up, he rubbed his face, over his stubble and the tired, bruised skin under his eyes. “Even with Jess… I’ve never seen him like this, Cas. It’s almost like seeing Dad. I can’t watch him go off the rails like that, I just can’t...” 

 

He could imagine it, it was all too easy, he could almost see it playing out in his head. Because he’d seen it happen before. His mind conjured up pictures of Sam with hollow, dead eyes, hunting and killing and not caring, swigging whisky from the bottle just to get to sleep at night. Staring at Dean but not seeing him, not really. A hardened shell of who he used to be. Nothing of his floppy-haired baby brother left in there at all. 

 

He had thought that the end of the apocalypse would solve everything, but no. It was still all broken and messed up. And if something didn’t change, he was gonna lose his brother to his loss.

 

The thoughts made his chest constrict, his throat tightening like grief had a hand around it. He squeezed his eyes shut in shame. He couldn’t cry, he  _ wouldn’t  _ cry. Crying was for babies, for civilians. But then an arm fell around his shoulders, plucking the beer out of his shaking fingers, tugging him into a solid chest, and something broke. The tears spilled out as a horrible shuddering, aching gasp tore itself out of his stomach. And another. And another, until it all deteriorated into heaving, ugly sobs. His hands were claws, clutching Cas to him. All through it, Cas held him, the one stable presence in his turbulent world, solid as a rock. 

 

Eventually, he started to calm, enough that he could hear Cas voice where it was rumbling against his cheek. “Your brother is not your father,” he murmured, “on many counts. For one thing, he has you. And for another, he has the rest of us. None of us are prepared to watch Sam slip into the dark.” He looked down, realising that Dean was back with him. “Come on. You need to sleep.”

 

Dean let Cas pull him to his feet, supporting him as he stumbled up the stairs. He fell onto his bed still fully clothed, barely feeling it as Cas slid his shoes off. His eyes still felt gritty and swollen, his throat thick, but he didn’t care. He was too tired for shame.

 

Cas turned to go. Dean’s arm darted out before he could stop it, catching the sleeve of the trenchcoat. Cas turned back.

 

“Don’t.” He croaked. Cas looked down at him, blue eyes fathomless. “Stay.”

 

The corners of Cas’ eyes crinkled. He shrugged out of his coat, and before Dean could rethink his invitation, there was the warm bulk of another body climbing into bed next to him. As the warm embrace of sleep took him, he heard Cas’ voice rumble next to his ear. “You’re not the only one who cares about Sam anymore, Dean. Rest. We’ll watch over him. We’ll watch over both of you.”

 

.o0o.

 

As Gaia had promised, they all helped. Rowena didn’t take much persuading to lend Sam powerful spellbooks, even dropping by to advise them. Cas and Balthazar began to gather the ingredients they would need from all over the globe. Even Crowley grudgingly delivered a spell bowl absolutely encrusted with runes with the parting words, “Amateurs, you don’t go casting spells this powerful with equipment that’s under five hundred years old. And tell the old trickster that he owes me one!”

 

There was one last thing that Sam realised that he had overlooked, but luckily, when he hurried out into the woods behind Bobby’s house in a panic to look for them, Gaia and Kali already had it in hand. Literally. 

 

“Is that clay?” 

 

Gaia looked up at him from where she was crouching at the edge of the stream, grey-white streaks smudged up to her elbows. “It is.” The lump of clay was huge, the size of a man, cushioned by a red carpet of fallen leaves. Already, the vaguest shapes of a human body were just visible, arms and legs sculpted from the formless mass. 

 

Sam freed himself from the last of the undergrowth, walking over to inspect it curiously. “Is it even possible to make an archangel vessel out of clay?”

 

Gaia rose, shaking droplets of water from her hands, ears flicking to swat away a fly. “I made him his body when he first descended to earth. I can do it again. In fact, I believe I can do it better this time, with Kali’s help”

 

Sam turned to where the other goddess was watching them from an ornate chair she had conjured into the clearing. Around her, the banks of fallen leaves made it look as though she was surrounded by flames. Kali’s mouth turned up in the smallest hint of a smile. “There’s a reason they call it the spark of life,” she simply said. Gaia smiled back at her, canines gleaming.

 

Sam nodded. “Great! So how long do you think this is going to take? A week or so?”

 

Gaia’s head tilted, considering. “I would say five months.”

 

“ _ Five months!? _ ”

 

Sam’s voice echoed off the bare branches around them. A flock of crows took flight in alarm, cawing as they flew.

 

Kali raised an eyebrow at his outburst. Gaia snorted irritably, drawing herself up to her full height and narrowing her eyes at him. “Patience! I need time to rebuild his vessel because I have no desire to get it wrong. Creating a body which can support a living being, especially one as vast and complex as an archangel, is an incredibly delicate process! It took me two years the first time, but now I know what I’m doing. Be thankful it isn’t longer.”

 

Sam looked down, rubbing at the stubble on his cheeks. “I...Sorry.”

 

She snorted again, seeming appeased, and turned back to the clay. “We should do it in spring anyway. The spells you are thinking of performing, for rebirth and resurrections, are more potent on the vernal equinox. We should have our best chance for success then, and I don’t think this vessel would be able to withstand more than one attempt, given the powerful magics which will be centred on it.” She raised a hand towards him, her palm broad, her fingers strong, clay still ingrained in the creases. A creator’s hands. “Would you give me your memories of him? I want to ensure that I get the vessel the same as he was before.”

 

Sam nodded, letting her fingers touch his forehead. Something brushed against him. Gaia’s mind felt different to Gabriel’s, not as vast but almost as ancient. There was a heavy weight to her thoughts, eons of experience pressing down on him, but she was careful as she leafed through his mind, delicately extracting what she needed. Sam opened his eyes, blinking as she drew away. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem. Listen, I… I really am sorry about earlier.”

 

She waved a hand. “It is already forgiven. Now go and get something to eat, Sam, I know you missed breakfast. We’ll take care of this.” Sam rolled his eyes, hiding a grin despite the disappointment still dragging him down. Gaia was getting almost as bad as Dean these days.

 

As he was about to leave the clearing, he glanced back at the clay that would become Gabriel’s new vessel. For half a second, Sam was almost jealous. It would be different, not being in the same body. They wouldn’t be able to share thoughts and feelings. He was going to miss the warmth of Gabriel’s grace pressed against his soul.

 

But it was better this way. With Gabriel in another body, Sam would be able to actually touch him, hold him outside of their dreams. Be _there_ with him. The thought sent another pang of longing through him.

 

Sam closed his eyes. Six months. He could do this.

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

_ Six Months Later, The Ardeche, France _

 

Finally, it was time. 

 

Sam took a deep breath, feeling the night’s chill seeping down into his lungs. Winter had seemed to drag on forever, one long blur of endless sleepless nights and exhausting research. Sometimes, it had felt as though it would never be over. Like they would never get to this point.

 

But now it was finally spring. Although the sky was a clear morning blue above them, still pale in the dawn, the air was frigid. France was still cold at this time of year. Sam blew out a long breath, watching the cloud of vapour billow out before turning to survey his surroundings.

 

A blue haze hung over the valley, the mist sinking to hover over the river, skeins of it still wrapped around the lower slopes. The first leaves had just emerged, the forest around them slowly turning vibrant green as the pre-dawn light touched it. A stream chattered to their left, lost in the undergrowth, and the rocky ground beneath his boots was carpeted in wildflowers, not yet open to the sun. The limestone cliffs loomed above them, the very top of the outcroppings blushing gold in the morning light. 

 

Sam turned to Gaia. “You’re sure that this is the place?”

 

She nodded beside him, whuffing a deep breath through her nostrils, steam billowing out into the crisp air. “I’m certain. This is where he touched down the first time. I can feel it.” She looked like the goddess she truly was out here, the dull lustre of her horns shining subtly, unbothered by the chill.

 

“Hey! Are you gonna help me with this or not?” Dean’s annoyed voice carried from behind him, rising over the soft chatter of the others gathered there. Sam turned and hurried over to where he was struggling, grabbing the other end of the stretcher and helping to carry it to the centre of the clearing, setting it down gently. Dean immediately stood with a groan, stretching his back. “Damn your boyfriend’s heavy.”

 

Sam ignored him, slowly, reverently peeling back the top half of the sheet. Under it, Gabriel’s new body lay still and pale, unbreathing. Sam had been dubious at first that this would even work, but Gaia had done more than he had ever thought possible. Gabriel was just as he remembered. His face was blank, serene, more so than it had ever been in life. It was a little disturbing, seeing something that looked like Gabriel and yet was so emphatically not. Not yet, anyway.

 

Dean shuddered at the sight. “Still gives me the heebie-jeebies. So. When are we doing this?”

 

“I keep telling you. Were you listening at all?” Dean looked guilty, his gaze flicking over to where Cas was standing, petting Fenrir. Sam rolled his eyes. “We have to time it so that the spell occurs at the same time the light strikes the clearing. That’s when it’ll be strongest. Which is the reason we spent the last two days timing exactly how long it takes to say the spell.”

 

“Yeah yeah, I got it.”

 

“All set,” Bobby interrupted them. “Candles are out and lit, ingredients are all there, wards are up to stop civilians seeing. We’re good to go.”

 

“Thanks, Bobby.”

 

Bobby patted him roughly on the shoulder. “Good luck, son.”

 

Sam checked his watch then turned to the rest. “Ready?” Kali and Gaia nodded, Fenrir wagging his tail.

 

Sam glanced down at the still body next to him, his heart beating fast. This was it. He took a deep breath and started to read the words that he’d spent long nights memorising.

 

It was a complex spell, full of twists and turns and alterations. Every few sentences the language would shift from enochian to old Norse, sometimes mixing the two together. As he spoke, he could feel the power building in the air, making the hair rise on his arms like an electric charge waiting to be released.

 

He reached the end just as the light crept down the trunks of the trees on the far side of the clearing. He had to do it now. Sam raised the kazoo, the metal warm against his lips, closed his eyes, and blew.

 

The Horn didn’t make the thin, reedy note that its appearance suggested the instrument should have made. The sound that emerged was low, sonorous, a rumbling boom that resonated through blood and bones. As though they themselves were conducting it, their life forces becoming channels for its voice to speak through. As it rang out, he first fingers of light brushed gently over Gabriel’s body, catching on the contours of his face and leafing them in gold. 

 

Sam let the last note fade into silence, the final echoes quickly swallowed by the canyon walls. He could feel his heart beating fast in his ears, his eyes fixed on the face beside him, praying for a spark of life. Not even the birds were calling. Like the whole forest was watching on in anticipation. They all waited with bated breath. 

 

The air in the clearing stirred. Something else stirred with it.

 

The candles snuffed themselves out, all at once, the smoke not rising straight up into the clear morning air as it should have but instead meandering lazily around the outside of the clearing, carried along by an invisible current. A handful of old leaves rustled, fluttering as the breeze plucked them from the ground. They danced upwards, swirled around one another, and they were joined by fresh green leaves, detaching themselves prematurely from the branches to join the throng. The breeze blew them higher, above the trees, until they were circling overhead.

 

The wind grew, the rustling getting louder. More and more leaves joined the ones already swirling through the air, a great ever-growing vortex of them, all buoyed up into the sky. They flashed, the colours changing in shimmering waves of green and yellow as the wind rippled across them. Sam laughed, entranced, and when he glanced around the others were all as gobsmacked as him, mouths gaping open, eyes fixed above their heads. The cloud grew, the trees stripping their branches bare, swathes of leaves rising all around like locusts, or maybe fish, all swimming up to join the roiling green bait ball rotating slowly above them. It was the size of a car, then a house, then a city block, towering over them, blocking out the light, casting a vast, dappled, shifting shadow over them. 

 

Then, just when Sam was convinced there couldn’t be any leaves left in the entire forest, the migration into the sky stopped. The shape of the leaves… changed. The ball stretched, condensed, forming limbs, the impression of wings, the outlines of great streaming tails. Eyes blinked open, looking down at him with irises made of a thousand golden petals. Sam laughed, high and disbelieving. It was him! It was really him! He could have sworn he saw it smile, the ghost of a familiar smirk. Then the creature shook its head and roared, its voice a resonant echo of the Horn, and it was off, great leaf-feathered wings lifting it into the sky as it did a lap of the clearing. 

 

Sam let out a wild, exhilarated whoop, throwing his hands into the air as Gabriel swooped back over them, the rush of wind tugging at his hair. Gabriel swung up again, going higher and higher, until Sam could barely see him as a gold-green speck. For a moment he was worried that Gabriel was flying away, never coming back to earth- his stomach clenched at the thought.

 

But then, Gabriel turned, wheeling directly above them. And he began to fall. Dropping out of the sky like a meteor, coming directly towards them. 

 

He wasn’t stopping. 

 

Sam heard Dean and Bobby yell, alarmed, their worried voices getting stronger as the shining green shape got closer and closer and closer. The whistling grew louder. Dean tugged on his arm, but Sam’s gaze was fixed on the sky, unable to pull himself away from the archangel descending on him. He had one last glimpse of green, about to slam into him, before he shut his eyes.

 

Gabriel struck with a heavy _WHUMP_ of pressure. Sam’s ears popped. He held up a hand as a wave of leaves and dust engulfed him, rustling and rushing past, battering gently against his skin. Slowly, the wind dropped out, leaving the clearing silent.

 

Sam opened his eyes. He was standing at the epicentre, the dropped leaves forming a ring around where he stood, great drifts of them as tall as he was. As he looked around, the leaves shifted and Dean and Bobby emerged, spluttering and spitting. Gaia and Kali appeared more elegantly, the leaves parting to let them through. Fenrir burst through in a wild rustle, trailing leaves behind him as he trotted forwards eagerly towards the body lying still in the very centre.

 

Sam knelt down close, inspecting Gabriel’s face intently. The dead pallor was gone, colour coming back into his cheeks. With a thrill, Sam realised that he could see Gabriel’s chest moving, slowly rising and falling. He was breathing! He put a hand on his sternum, and let out a shuddering breath when he felt Gabriel’s heart beating, sure and strong under his palm.

 

“Did it work?” Dean’s voice broke through his concentration, but Sam still couldn’t look away from Gabriel’s face.

 

“We did it. We did it!” He laughed, half relief, half disbelief. There had been so many moments these last dark months when he’d been almost convinced it wouldn’t work. But it  _ had _ worked, Sam could feel it. Even though Gabriel wasn’t inside him any longer, the terrible empty feeling where Gabriel had been in his mind was filled. That warmth that he’d been worried that he’d lose was back. Gabriel had returned, and he was whole again. The giddy happiness was slowly building inside him, bubbling out as laughter. 

 

His attention snapped back to Gabriel when his face shifted.

 

“Gabriel? Gabriel, can you hear me?”

 

Gabriel’s forehead wrinkled. His breath hitched. His eyelids twitched. He started to open them, then immediately groaned and scrunched them closed again.

 

“Sam?” His voice was rough, as though he’d just woken from a long sleep. “Am I dead? I feel like I’m dead. Sweet Dad, my head hurts.”

 

Sam couldn’t reply, his chest was too tight, pushing back the tears gathering in his eyes. Dean answered for him. “You’re not dead, but you gave it your best shot. Nice try, but you don’t get rid of us that easy.”

 

“Open your eyes, Gabriel,” Gaia rumbled, leaning over them, “We have been waiting for you. Some of us more patiently than others,” there was a thread of amusement in her deep voice, but Sam didn’t care about the teasing, couldn’t focus on anything else when Gabriel was right there, alive under his hands.

 

Gabriel squinted up at them, his brown irises turning golden in the light, sparked back to life, and Sam couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He reached down to pull Gabriel into his arms, burying his face in Gabriel’s neck. He could feel himself shaking as Gabriel gently hugged him back. “Woah! Easy there. How long was I gone?”

 

“Six months,” Sam managed to gasp out, “six months, you inconsiderate bastard!”

 

Gabriel’s arms tightened. “Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry.”

 

Sam drew back just enough to press their lips together, a little too hard, a little too desperate, but he couldn’t stop himself. Gabriel was finally there with him, warm and solid and alive under the palms of his hands. There would be time for gentle later, and Gabriel didn’t seem to be complaining, arching up into him, turning the kiss open-mouthed and heated, winding his hands through Sam’s hair.

 

“Get a room!” Dean called from behind them, but when they broke apart Sam saw that he was smiling, his grin nearly splitting his face in half. The others were smiling at them too, even Kali, but they were still standing back. Giving them space, he realised.

 

He smiled, closing his eyes, leaning their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

 

Gabriel hugged him tighter, their noses brushing together, his hands digging into Sam’s shirt. Then he drew back, getting unsteadily to his feet. Sam rose with him, grabbing his arm when he wobbled. The light fell across Gabriel’s face, making him look almost like he was glowing. Something shifted behind him, and Sam realised that he could still see the outlines of the great wings, shimmering like gossamer, wrapped around them both like a cocoon of feathers.

 

They slowly drew back, and Gabriel reached out, taking Sam’s hand as his wings spread wide around them. 

 

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we here already?? 
> 
> I'm going to miss this fic; it's been a part of me, usually an enjoyable part, for the best part of two years now, so seeing it fully published is a little surreal. I'm going to miss writing it, but most of all, I'm going to miss all the comments from you lovely people reading it! You really have made this one of the best writing experiences I've had, and I hope you've had half as much fun reading it as I have writing.
> 
> A massive thank you again to dmsilvisart!! The pieces are absolutely gorgeous!!
> 
> Am I planning more? Well, there may be one or two one-shots in the pipeline. If anyone has anything they'd particularly like to see, I'd love to hear it! One thing I will say; while I personally would love to be able to write a scene where they Do The Sex, my smut is atrocious. And very time-consuming because I'm never happy with it. So that is, unfortunately, unlikely to happen. But if literally EVERYONE is keen, I can make the effort!
> 
> Until next time! <3


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